“Our deepest fears are but dragons guarding our deepest treasures.”
– R.M. Rilke
14 July 2009
Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité -- and Organizing
Happy Bastille Day!
The storming of the Bastille during the French Revolution is celebrated as a sort-of French 4th of July. Because the Bastille held both ammunition and political prisoners, its storming represents liberation from the oppression of monarchy.
For me, becoming organized is also liberating. Some people think of organizing as a restrictive straight-jacket, a set of rigid rules, too much oppressive order. But I prefer to think of organization as a life jacket, a tool that supports us as we navigate our way down life’s river.
The French motto is Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité – liberty, equality, and brotherhood. In honor of Bastille Day, I thought I’d look at the benefits of organizing from the motto’s perspective.
Liberté
I had a client once who was in charge of her psychologically-disabled sister’s estate. We worked together to organize all the paperwork associated with her sister, and were eventually able to put it all, neatly labeled and filed, in a portable file box. The day we finished, my client pranced gleefully, singing “Betty’s in a box! Betty’s in a box!” Now, when she wanted, she could hand over the responsibility for Betty* to someone else. Whoo-hoo! Freedom!
I have another client for whom we’ll be doing something similar. She currently handles all of the paperwork and finances for her 20-something-year-old son. In the course of organizing her office, one of our goals is to set up a paper-management system – again, self-contained in a portable file box – for all her son’s affairs. Her goal is to teach him how to use it and eventually turn it over to him, empowering him to make his own financial decisions and liberating her from the responsibility.
Egalité
Possibly because they’ve struggled to function as a right-brain creative sort in a left-brain culture, many artists scoff at organization as being dreadfully dull. One of my readers once wrote to me: “I have always detested neat, highly organized people. They are not like me. They made me feel faulty, inadequate, guilty, and so I pronounced them without creativity, spontaneity, or passion.” The rebellious artist rejects organization as antithetical to the creative process. And yet – organization supports art. Creation is easier when the artist can find her toys – her favorite camel-hair brush, the Italian hand painted blue bead, the silver glitter. Being able to find our toys – or really, our tools – put us on an even keel with our fellow craftsmen by enabling us to practice our craft without unnecessary hindrance.
Ditto for attorneys, or teachers, or healers, or carpenters, or chefs. Having our tools readily available allows us to do our job more effectively and helps create a level playing field – equality.
Fraternité
Brotherhood reminds us that we’re all in this together. My last principle – I have 12 Basic Principles of Being Organized, which are the focus of my book – is to Ask for Help. I remind people that we are not alone and we shouldn’t try to do it all ourselves. If those artists, attorneys, teachers, healers, carpenters, and chefs need help organizing, I can help them. The principles are universal across professions. But I can also help people get organized so that they can bring in help. Some people – especially entrepreneurs – need help setting up basic office systems so that a secretary or bookkeeper can come in and take the administrative load off, allowing the entrepreneur to focus on growing her business. Other people need their home decluttered and organized enough to allow a housekeeper to come in and help them with the cleaning. Or they need their kids’ areas organized so that they can start teaching their children how to be organized.
Why We Organize
In my book, The Spiritual Art of Being Organized, I write about why people get organized. Here’s an excerpt from the book:
Why get organized? What are the benefits to you? When I ask my clients this question, they toss back answers:
* so I can find things;
* so I can pay my bills on time;
* so I can have company over without feeling embarrassed;
* to feel happier, more peaceful and serene;
* o reduce stress;
* to save time and effort, make my life easier;
* so I can meet deadlines, improving my work performance and relationships with co-workers;
* to save money (on late fees, duplication of possessions);
* to make money;
* to improve the way my home (or office) looks and feels;
* to have more time to spend with my family and to do what I really want;
* to feel better about myself.
Artists, doctors, mothers, gardeners—I believe that each of us has gifts to offer, and a duty to offer them. Each of us brings something to the whole, to making the world a lovelier, safer, happier place. Being organized helps us share our gifts.
What, then, does it mean to be organized? For me, being organized means being able to access what we want quickly and easily. Organization does not require perfection, only that our systems are easy to use and maintain. Contrary to images of organized homes being the result of constant vigilance, organization is actually about being lazy; about making our lives easier. Rather than seeing organization as a dam that restricts our life’s river, think of it as the raft that supports us, that provides structure and a modicum of safety and control as we float (or ride rapids) downstream.
In fact, Class IV rapids are an excellent reason to become organized. Life happens. We lose our job, our health, a loved one. Or we become deeply involved in a creative project, a long and fabulous vacation, an all-consuming love affair. We have babies, move, return to school, start a business, write a book, change careers. Being organized helps us to survive, even thrive, as we ride through these transitional rapids.
In The Way of Zen, Alan Watts wrote, “If the wind were to stop for one second for us to catch hold of it, it would cease to be wind. The same is true of life. Perpetually things and events are moving and changing…. We can only understand life by keeping pace with it, by a complete affirmation and acceptance of its magic-like transformations and unending changes.” And, I would add, by being organized enough to flow with it.
So why get organized? Because, when all is said and done, being organized makes life easier.
Taking it to the Streets
Consider furthering the cause of liberty, equality, and brotherhood by reaching out to those being held prisoner by their disorganization. Do you know someone who is often running late? Losing things? Being assaulted with late fees? Complaining about being disorganized? Complaining about their spouse being disorganized? I don’t recommend ramming their gates with critical judgment – “Boy are you a mess! You should hire Claire!” – but a quiet coup de grace – mentioning that you know me and that I’ve helped hundreds of people, encouraging them to visit my web site and then call me… that would be one way you could make their lives easier and the world a better place. Together we can make the world a bit more lovely and whole.
*Not her real name
The storming of the Bastille during the French Revolution is celebrated as a sort-of French 4th of July. Because the Bastille held both ammunition and political prisoners, its storming represents liberation from the oppression of monarchy.
For me, becoming organized is also liberating. Some people think of organizing as a restrictive straight-jacket, a set of rigid rules, too much oppressive order. But I prefer to think of organization as a life jacket, a tool that supports us as we navigate our way down life’s river.
The French motto is Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité – liberty, equality, and brotherhood. In honor of Bastille Day, I thought I’d look at the benefits of organizing from the motto’s perspective.
Liberté
I had a client once who was in charge of her psychologically-disabled sister’s estate. We worked together to organize all the paperwork associated with her sister, and were eventually able to put it all, neatly labeled and filed, in a portable file box. The day we finished, my client pranced gleefully, singing “Betty’s in a box! Betty’s in a box!” Now, when she wanted, she could hand over the responsibility for Betty* to someone else. Whoo-hoo! Freedom!
I have another client for whom we’ll be doing something similar. She currently handles all of the paperwork and finances for her 20-something-year-old son. In the course of organizing her office, one of our goals is to set up a paper-management system – again, self-contained in a portable file box – for all her son’s affairs. Her goal is to teach him how to use it and eventually turn it over to him, empowering him to make his own financial decisions and liberating her from the responsibility.
Egalité
Possibly because they’ve struggled to function as a right-brain creative sort in a left-brain culture, many artists scoff at organization as being dreadfully dull. One of my readers once wrote to me: “I have always detested neat, highly organized people. They are not like me. They made me feel faulty, inadequate, guilty, and so I pronounced them without creativity, spontaneity, or passion.” The rebellious artist rejects organization as antithetical to the creative process. And yet – organization supports art. Creation is easier when the artist can find her toys – her favorite camel-hair brush, the Italian hand painted blue bead, the silver glitter. Being able to find our toys – or really, our tools – put us on an even keel with our fellow craftsmen by enabling us to practice our craft without unnecessary hindrance.
Ditto for attorneys, or teachers, or healers, or carpenters, or chefs. Having our tools readily available allows us to do our job more effectively and helps create a level playing field – equality.
Fraternité
Brotherhood reminds us that we’re all in this together. My last principle – I have 12 Basic Principles of Being Organized, which are the focus of my book – is to Ask for Help. I remind people that we are not alone and we shouldn’t try to do it all ourselves. If those artists, attorneys, teachers, healers, carpenters, and chefs need help organizing, I can help them. The principles are universal across professions. But I can also help people get organized so that they can bring in help. Some people – especially entrepreneurs – need help setting up basic office systems so that a secretary or bookkeeper can come in and take the administrative load off, allowing the entrepreneur to focus on growing her business. Other people need their home decluttered and organized enough to allow a housekeeper to come in and help them with the cleaning. Or they need their kids’ areas organized so that they can start teaching their children how to be organized.
Why We Organize
In my book, The Spiritual Art of Being Organized, I write about why people get organized. Here’s an excerpt from the book:
Why get organized? What are the benefits to you? When I ask my clients this question, they toss back answers:
* so I can find things;
* so I can pay my bills on time;
* so I can have company over without feeling embarrassed;
* to feel happier, more peaceful and serene;
* o reduce stress;
* to save time and effort, make my life easier;
* so I can meet deadlines, improving my work performance and relationships with co-workers;
* to save money (on late fees, duplication of possessions);
* to make money;
* to improve the way my home (or office) looks and feels;
* to have more time to spend with my family and to do what I really want;
* to feel better about myself.
Artists, doctors, mothers, gardeners—I believe that each of us has gifts to offer, and a duty to offer them. Each of us brings something to the whole, to making the world a lovelier, safer, happier place. Being organized helps us share our gifts.
What, then, does it mean to be organized? For me, being organized means being able to access what we want quickly and easily. Organization does not require perfection, only that our systems are easy to use and maintain. Contrary to images of organized homes being the result of constant vigilance, organization is actually about being lazy; about making our lives easier. Rather than seeing organization as a dam that restricts our life’s river, think of it as the raft that supports us, that provides structure and a modicum of safety and control as we float (or ride rapids) downstream.
In fact, Class IV rapids are an excellent reason to become organized. Life happens. We lose our job, our health, a loved one. Or we become deeply involved in a creative project, a long and fabulous vacation, an all-consuming love affair. We have babies, move, return to school, start a business, write a book, change careers. Being organized helps us to survive, even thrive, as we ride through these transitional rapids.
In The Way of Zen, Alan Watts wrote, “If the wind were to stop for one second for us to catch hold of it, it would cease to be wind. The same is true of life. Perpetually things and events are moving and changing…. We can only understand life by keeping pace with it, by a complete affirmation and acceptance of its magic-like transformations and unending changes.” And, I would add, by being organized enough to flow with it.
So why get organized? Because, when all is said and done, being organized makes life easier.
Taking it to the Streets
Consider furthering the cause of liberty, equality, and brotherhood by reaching out to those being held prisoner by their disorganization. Do you know someone who is often running late? Losing things? Being assaulted with late fees? Complaining about being disorganized? Complaining about their spouse being disorganized? I don’t recommend ramming their gates with critical judgment – “Boy are you a mess! You should hire Claire!” – but a quiet coup de grace – mentioning that you know me and that I’ve helped hundreds of people, encouraging them to visit my web site and then call me… that would be one way you could make their lives easier and the world a better place. Together we can make the world a bit more lovely and whole.
*Not her real name
09 July 2009
Inspiration Quote - week of July 6, 2009
“Liberty is not license to do whatever you want to do. It is the freedom* to do what you ought to do.”
– Sylvia Boorstein, quoting a sign she saw somewhere
(*And, I would add, the responsibility to do what you ought. – Claire Josefine)
– Sylvia Boorstein, quoting a sign she saw somewhere
(*And, I would add, the responsibility to do what you ought. – Claire Josefine)
Inspirational Quotes June 2009
Issue 28, June 1, 2009
“Art is the elimination of the unnecessary.”
– Pablo Picasso
Issue 29, June 8, 2009
“Why is it that we yearn to be more or other than we are? It so rarely occurs to us that what we are looking for may be – indeed, always is – already within us, simply undiscovered.”
– from Nothing Left Over by Toinette Lippe
Issue 30, June 15, 2009
“[T]he making of money and the accumulation of things should not smother the purity of the soul, the life of the mind, the cohesion of the family, or the good of the society.”
– Duane Elgin (paraphrasing David Shi)
Issue 31, June 22, 2009
“Observation of my life to date shows that the larger the number for whom I work, the more positively effective I become. Thus, it is obvious that if I work always and only for all humanity, I will be optimally effective.”
– R. Buckminster Fuller
Issue 32, June 29, 2009
“Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.”
– William James
“Art is the elimination of the unnecessary.”
– Pablo Picasso
Issue 29, June 8, 2009
“Why is it that we yearn to be more or other than we are? It so rarely occurs to us that what we are looking for may be – indeed, always is – already within us, simply undiscovered.”
– from Nothing Left Over by Toinette Lippe
Issue 30, June 15, 2009
“[T]he making of money and the accumulation of things should not smother the purity of the soul, the life of the mind, the cohesion of the family, or the good of the society.”
– Duane Elgin (paraphrasing David Shi)
Issue 31, June 22, 2009
“Observation of my life to date shows that the larger the number for whom I work, the more positively effective I become. Thus, it is obvious that if I work always and only for all humanity, I will be optimally effective.”
– R. Buckminster Fuller
Issue 32, June 29, 2009
“Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.”
– William James
Inspirational Quotes May 2009
Issue 24, May 4, 2009
"When you come right down to it, all you have is yourself. The sun is a thousand rays in your belly. All the rest is nothing."
– Pablo Picasso
Issue 25, May 11, 2009
"He who will, Fates lead. He who won’t, they drag."
– Joseph Campbell
Issue 26, May 18, 2009
“Simplicity is the result of stopping the identification with so many desires.”
– Ram Dass
Issue 27, May 25, 2009
"Love is the ultimate force that makes for the saving choice of life and good against the damning choice of death and evil. Therefore the first hope in our inventory must be the hope that love is going to have the last word."
– Arnold Toynbee
"When you come right down to it, all you have is yourself. The sun is a thousand rays in your belly. All the rest is nothing."
– Pablo Picasso
Issue 25, May 11, 2009
"He who will, Fates lead. He who won’t, they drag."
– Joseph Campbell
Issue 26, May 18, 2009
“Simplicity is the result of stopping the identification with so many desires.”
– Ram Dass
Issue 27, May 25, 2009
"Love is the ultimate force that makes for the saving choice of life and good against the damning choice of death and evil. Therefore the first hope in our inventory must be the hope that love is going to have the last word."
– Arnold Toynbee
Inspirational Quotes April 2009
Issue 20, April 8, 2009
"If you should be holding a sapling in your hand when they tell you the Messiah has arrived, first plant the sapling, then go out and greet him."
— Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakka
Issue 21, April 13, 2009
"Salvation is seeing that the universe is good, and becoming a part of that goodness." — Arthur G. Clutton-Brock
Issue 22, April 20, 2009
"I no longer expect things to make sense. I know there is no safety. But that does not mean there is no magic. It does not mean there is no hope. It simply means that each of us has reason to be wishful and frightened, aspiring and flawed. And it means that, to the degree we are lost, it is on the same ocean, in the same night."
— Elizabeth Kaye
Issue 23, April 27, 2009
"…there is an aesthetics of time that is violated when we live in constant rush, when our lives are a succession of agenda items, when we live like someone racing through the supermarket with a shopping list. To live well means giving things the time they deserve, be it time for the children, one’s spouse and lover, one’s friends, or the garden."
— from Graceful Simplicity by Jerome Segal
"If you should be holding a sapling in your hand when they tell you the Messiah has arrived, first plant the sapling, then go out and greet him."
— Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakka
Issue 21, April 13, 2009
"Salvation is seeing that the universe is good, and becoming a part of that goodness." — Arthur G. Clutton-Brock
Issue 22, April 20, 2009
"I no longer expect things to make sense. I know there is no safety. But that does not mean there is no magic. It does not mean there is no hope. It simply means that each of us has reason to be wishful and frightened, aspiring and flawed. And it means that, to the degree we are lost, it is on the same ocean, in the same night."
— Elizabeth Kaye
Issue 23, April 27, 2009
"…there is an aesthetics of time that is violated when we live in constant rush, when our lives are a succession of agenda items, when we live like someone racing through the supermarket with a shopping list. To live well means giving things the time they deserve, be it time for the children, one’s spouse and lover, one’s friends, or the garden."
— from Graceful Simplicity by Jerome Segal
Inspirational Quotes March 2009
Issue 15, March 2, 2009
“[W]hen the health of one part of the food chain is disturbed, it can affect all the other creatures in it. If the soil is sick or in some way deficient, so will be the grasses that grow in that soil and the cattle that eat the grasses and the people who drink the milk from them. … Our personal health cannot be divorced from the health of the entire food web.”
— from In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan
Issue 16, March 9, 2009
In Tales of the Hasidim, there is a story about Rabbi Baruch, who talked about three ways of bringing money to the zaddik, the head of the temple: “Some say to themselves, ‘I’ll give him something. I am the kind of person who brings gifts to the zaddik.’ Others think, ‘If I give gifts to this devout man, it will profit me hereafter.’ They want heaven to pay them interest. It is a loan. But there are some who know: ‘God has put this money in my hand for the zaddik, and I am his messenger.’ These serve with full and open heart.”
— Ram Dass
Issue 17, March 16, 2009
"Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark. If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it would not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be... a prudent insurance policy."
— Elizabeth Gilbert
Issue 18, March 23, 2009
“A mystery is that special kind of problem which has no solutions because the more we understand it, the more we see that we don’t understand. In mysteries, knowledge and ignorance advance lockstep. As known unknowns become known, unknown unknowns proliferate; the larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder.”
– Huston Smith
Issue 19, March 30, 2009
Our life is shorter than flowers
Then shall we mourn?
No, we shall dance
Plant gardens
Dress in colors
And teach our children
To make the world more beautiful
Because our life is shorter than flowers.
— Toltec fragment
“[W]hen the health of one part of the food chain is disturbed, it can affect all the other creatures in it. If the soil is sick or in some way deficient, so will be the grasses that grow in that soil and the cattle that eat the grasses and the people who drink the milk from them. … Our personal health cannot be divorced from the health of the entire food web.”
— from In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan
Issue 16, March 9, 2009
In Tales of the Hasidim, there is a story about Rabbi Baruch, who talked about three ways of bringing money to the zaddik, the head of the temple: “Some say to themselves, ‘I’ll give him something. I am the kind of person who brings gifts to the zaddik.’ Others think, ‘If I give gifts to this devout man, it will profit me hereafter.’ They want heaven to pay them interest. It is a loan. But there are some who know: ‘God has put this money in my hand for the zaddik, and I am his messenger.’ These serve with full and open heart.”
— Ram Dass
Issue 17, March 16, 2009
"Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark. If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it would not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be... a prudent insurance policy."
— Elizabeth Gilbert
Issue 18, March 23, 2009
“A mystery is that special kind of problem which has no solutions because the more we understand it, the more we see that we don’t understand. In mysteries, knowledge and ignorance advance lockstep. As known unknowns become known, unknown unknowns proliferate; the larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder.”
– Huston Smith
Issue 19, March 30, 2009
Our life is shorter than flowers
Then shall we mourn?
No, we shall dance
Plant gardens
Dress in colors
And teach our children
To make the world more beautiful
Because our life is shorter than flowers.
— Toltec fragment
Inspirational Quotes February 2009
Issue 11, February 2, 2009
“The free man, the person who refuses to rule himself according to the tutelage of the market, may choose different satisfactions: time instead of things, happiness instead of wealth. If so, the productive capacity of nations will have to be diminished or production will have to be described in a different way, revalued, like something brought out of a long sojourn in darkness and suddenly exposed to light. Wisdom could become more valuable than widgets. Professors and poets would become the wealth of nations.”
— from A Nation of Salesmen: The Tyranny of the Market and the Subversion of Culture by Earl Shorris
Issue 12, February 9, 2009
"To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer."
— Mahatma Gandhi
Issue 13, February 16, 2009
“We are each responsible for the conduct of our lives – and we are each unique. Therefore we are each uniquely responsible for our actions and choices in this pivotal time in human evolution. There is no one who can take our place. We each weave a singular strand in the web of life. No one else can weave that strand for us. What we each contribute is distinct, and what we each withhold is uniquely irreplaceable.
More than anything else, the outcome from this time of planetary transition will depend on the choices that we make as individuals.”
— Duane Elgin
Issue 14, February 23, 2009
“When someone steals a man’s clothes we call him a thief. Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry man; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to the man who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the man who has not shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.”
— Basil the Great, bishop of Caesarea, around 365 A.D.
“The free man, the person who refuses to rule himself according to the tutelage of the market, may choose different satisfactions: time instead of things, happiness instead of wealth. If so, the productive capacity of nations will have to be diminished or production will have to be described in a different way, revalued, like something brought out of a long sojourn in darkness and suddenly exposed to light. Wisdom could become more valuable than widgets. Professors and poets would become the wealth of nations.”
— from A Nation of Salesmen: The Tyranny of the Market and the Subversion of Culture by Earl Shorris
Issue 12, February 9, 2009
"To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer."
— Mahatma Gandhi
Issue 13, February 16, 2009
“We are each responsible for the conduct of our lives – and we are each unique. Therefore we are each uniquely responsible for our actions and choices in this pivotal time in human evolution. There is no one who can take our place. We each weave a singular strand in the web of life. No one else can weave that strand for us. What we each contribute is distinct, and what we each withhold is uniquely irreplaceable.
More than anything else, the outcome from this time of planetary transition will depend on the choices that we make as individuals.”
— Duane Elgin
Issue 14, February 23, 2009
“When someone steals a man’s clothes we call him a thief. Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry man; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to the man who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the man who has not shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.”
— Basil the Great, bishop of Caesarea, around 365 A.D.
Inspirational Quotes January 2009
Issue 7, January 5, 2009
"When we walk to the edge of all the light we have and take the step into the darkness of the unknown, we must believe that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid for us to stand on or we will be taught to fly."
— Patrick Overton
Issue 8, January 12, 2009
"I do believe in simplicity. It is astonishing as well as sad, how many trivial affairs even the wisest thinks he must attend to in a day; how singular an affair he thinks he must omit. When the mathematician would solve a difficult problem, he first frees the equation of all encumbrances, and reduces it to its simplest terms. So simplify the problem of life, distinguish the necessary and the real. Probe the earth to see where your main roots run."
— Henry David Thoreau
Issue 9, January 19, 2009
"The poor long for riches and the rich for heaven, but the wise long for a state of tranquility."
– Swami Rama
Issue 10, January 26, 2009
"There is no spiritual practice more profound than being kind to one’s family, neighbors, the cashier at the grocery store, an unexpected visitor, the person who does the laundry or picks up the garbage, or any other of the usually 'invisible' people whose paths we cross in the course of a normal day."
— from It’s A Meaningful Life – It Just Takes Practice by Bo Lozoff
"When we walk to the edge of all the light we have and take the step into the darkness of the unknown, we must believe that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid for us to stand on or we will be taught to fly."
— Patrick Overton
Issue 8, January 12, 2009
"I do believe in simplicity. It is astonishing as well as sad, how many trivial affairs even the wisest thinks he must attend to in a day; how singular an affair he thinks he must omit. When the mathematician would solve a difficult problem, he first frees the equation of all encumbrances, and reduces it to its simplest terms. So simplify the problem of life, distinguish the necessary and the real. Probe the earth to see where your main roots run."
— Henry David Thoreau
Issue 9, January 19, 2009
"The poor long for riches and the rich for heaven, but the wise long for a state of tranquility."
– Swami Rama
Issue 10, January 26, 2009
"There is no spiritual practice more profound than being kind to one’s family, neighbors, the cashier at the grocery store, an unexpected visitor, the person who does the laundry or picks up the garbage, or any other of the usually 'invisible' people whose paths we cross in the course of a normal day."
— from It’s A Meaningful Life – It Just Takes Practice by Bo Lozoff
Inspirational Quotes Nov/Dec. 2008
In late November of 2008, I began sending a weekly inspirational quote (via email) to over 200 people. The quotes focus on simplicity and spirituality.
I recently realized that I should post those quotes to this blog, too. So here they are, by month (for the most part). Once I've caught up with the past quotes, I will start posting them here each week when I send them out. Meanwhile, if you'd like to receive the weekly email, send a request to ClaireJosefine@wildblue.net. And if you know of anyone else who might appreciate receiving these quotes, please, let them know!
Blessings, and enjoy --
Claire
Issue 1, November 24, 2008
"In truth, it is not the number and diversity of our possessions that are the problems but our attachment to them. When the attachment grows thin and the filament breaks, then we discover that we do not really want so much anymore. What we need to relinquish, therefore, is our attachment to possessions and experiences, not the things themselves. The freedom we are all seeking is freedom from the fear of losing what we believe we own."
– from Nothing Left Over by Toinette Lippe
Issue 2, December 1, 2008
"What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?"
– George Eliot
Issue 3, December 8, 2008
"[Think of] God playing hide and seek with himself, remembering himself, then dismembering himself into the myriad roles played by sentient beings… All bodies are the clothes of the one and only Self in its innumerable disguises, and the whole universe is a masquerade ball pretending to be a tragedy and then realizing it’s a ball."
– Alan Watts
Issue 4, December 15, 2008
"The bird of paradise alights only upon the hand that does not grasp."
– John Berry
Issue 5, December 22, 2008
"God is more glorified by a man who uses the good things of this life in simplicity and with gratitude than by the nervous asceticism of someone who is agitated about every detail of his self-denial. … His [the latter’s] struggle for perfection becomes a kind of battle of wits with the Creator who made all things good."
– Thomas Merton
Issue 6, December 29, 2008
“It can be said that the Earth is a mask of God which appears in many contradictions – good and evil, refined and coarse, alive and dead, enduring and transitory. But behind this cover of plurality is God’s oneness. The boulder and the soap bubble are identical. Stupidity is only crippled wisdom. The dead aren’t dead, the departed haven’t vanished. God lives, and everything that comes from Him is alive. Darkness is only dimmed light. The wrongs are disguised mercies.
Why did God require this concealment? … God bestowed upon the people of the Earth – which is the lowest and darkest of all the worlds – a gift that no other world could have received: free will, the freedom to choose between good and evil. In the higher spheres, God’s light is too radiant to allow doubt and error.”
– from Reaches of Heaven by Isaac Bashevis Singer
I recently realized that I should post those quotes to this blog, too. So here they are, by month (for the most part). Once I've caught up with the past quotes, I will start posting them here each week when I send them out. Meanwhile, if you'd like to receive the weekly email, send a request to ClaireJosefine@wildblue.net. And if you know of anyone else who might appreciate receiving these quotes, please, let them know!
Blessings, and enjoy --
Claire
Issue 1, November 24, 2008
"In truth, it is not the number and diversity of our possessions that are the problems but our attachment to them. When the attachment grows thin and the filament breaks, then we discover that we do not really want so much anymore. What we need to relinquish, therefore, is our attachment to possessions and experiences, not the things themselves. The freedom we are all seeking is freedom from the fear of losing what we believe we own."
– from Nothing Left Over by Toinette Lippe
Issue 2, December 1, 2008
"What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?"
– George Eliot
Issue 3, December 8, 2008
"[Think of] God playing hide and seek with himself, remembering himself, then dismembering himself into the myriad roles played by sentient beings… All bodies are the clothes of the one and only Self in its innumerable disguises, and the whole universe is a masquerade ball pretending to be a tragedy and then realizing it’s a ball."
– Alan Watts
Issue 4, December 15, 2008
"The bird of paradise alights only upon the hand that does not grasp."
– John Berry
Issue 5, December 22, 2008
"God is more glorified by a man who uses the good things of this life in simplicity and with gratitude than by the nervous asceticism of someone who is agitated about every detail of his self-denial. … His [the latter’s] struggle for perfection becomes a kind of battle of wits with the Creator who made all things good."
– Thomas Merton
Issue 6, December 29, 2008
“It can be said that the Earth is a mask of God which appears in many contradictions – good and evil, refined and coarse, alive and dead, enduring and transitory. But behind this cover of plurality is God’s oneness. The boulder and the soap bubble are identical. Stupidity is only crippled wisdom. The dead aren’t dead, the departed haven’t vanished. God lives, and everything that comes from Him is alive. Darkness is only dimmed light. The wrongs are disguised mercies.
Why did God require this concealment? … God bestowed upon the people of the Earth – which is the lowest and darkest of all the worlds – a gift that no other world could have received: free will, the freedom to choose between good and evil. In the higher spheres, God’s light is too radiant to allow doubt and error.”
– from Reaches of Heaven by Isaac Bashevis Singer
16 April 2009
Uber Bread
I’ve been working on eating a low(er)-glycemic diet. Toward this end, I’ve modified my multi-grain bread recipe into what I call my Uber Bread – the ultimate in healthy, tasty, dense bread.
Soak ½ cup of wheat and/or oat berries overnight. In the morning, drain them, then put them in a pot with fresh water, bring to a boil, then simmer for about an hour. Remove from heat and allow to cool to tepid.
Once the berries have cooled, combine and proof
2 teaspoons yeast
2 Tablespoons honey
3 Tablespoons olive oil
12 ounces liquid (I use 1 cup room-temperature milk and ½ cup of the liquid that I cooked the berries in)
Once the yeast has proofed, mix in
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups stone-ground whole wheat flour
½ cup oat bran
½ cut wheat bran
½ cup flax meal
½ cup oats
the cooked berries
1-plus cups white flour (as needed to knead)
Knead until dough is smooth and springy.
Coat with olive oil, cover, and allow to rise in a warm, draft-free place. (This might take a couple of hours.)
Once doubled in bulk, punch down and knead again. Divide in half and form two loaves. Sprinkle a pizza stone with coarse cornmeal (I use polenta) and place the loaves on it. Cover and allow to rise a second time. Once risen, place in a 350-degree oven and bake for about 45 minutes.
Soak ½ cup of wheat and/or oat berries overnight. In the morning, drain them, then put them in a pot with fresh water, bring to a boil, then simmer for about an hour. Remove from heat and allow to cool to tepid.
Once the berries have cooled, combine and proof
2 teaspoons yeast
2 Tablespoons honey
3 Tablespoons olive oil
12 ounces liquid (I use 1 cup room-temperature milk and ½ cup of the liquid that I cooked the berries in)
Once the yeast has proofed, mix in
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups stone-ground whole wheat flour
½ cup oat bran
½ cut wheat bran
½ cup flax meal
½ cup oats
the cooked berries
1-plus cups white flour (as needed to knead)
Knead until dough is smooth and springy.
Coat with olive oil, cover, and allow to rise in a warm, draft-free place. (This might take a couple of hours.)
Once doubled in bulk, punch down and knead again. Divide in half and form two loaves. Sprinkle a pizza stone with coarse cornmeal (I use polenta) and place the loaves on it. Cover and allow to rise a second time. Once risen, place in a 350-degree oven and bake for about 45 minutes.
13 April 2009
A Few Passover Recipes
Feels like I've been cooking all week!
I hosted a seder for nine people last Wednesday for the first night of Pesach, and attended a friend's very abbreviated seder last night.(Mostly it was a dinner party that used Passover as an excuse to gather, although we did tell the Exodus story and eat all the ceremonial foods, so I guess it counts as a seder.)
My charoset (which is chunky, not paste-like) is delicious, and at least one friend says it's the best she's ever had. Also, both the desserts I made were a big hit. So here, in my inimitable style, are the recipes for those three dishes. There's still two more nights of Passover, if you want to give them a try. Or heck, eat them any old time of the year!
Charoset
Finely chop and combine:
2 apples
approx. 1/2 cup raisins
approx. 1/2 cup dates
approx. 1/4 cup dried cherries
1 orange
approx. 1/2 cup walnuts or pecans
sprinkle with a bit of cinnamon and cloves
moisten with kosher blackberry wine or grape juice. If using grape juice, squeeze in the juice from half a Meyer's lemon, too.
Mix well and let sit, covered and refrigerated, for several hours so the flavors mingle nicely.
Serve as a fruit salad, or as a Hillel sandwich (matzah with horseradish and charoset).
Claire's Passover Sachertorte
Preheat oven to 325
Butter the bottom -- but not the sides -- of a 9 inch spring form pan
Melt 5 ounces semi-sweet chocolate chips (I use Guittard)
Beat 5 egg whites until stiff
Cream
3/4 cup sugar (although I used about 1/2 cup of agave nectar)
3/4 cup butter
either 1 teaspoon orange rind, or a splash of orange liqueur (I used Triple Sec)
3/4 cup finely ground almond meal
5 egg yolks
Beat in the melted chocolate
Gradually fold in the stiff egg whites
Pour into spring form pan and bake for 50 minutes to an hour.
Top with a chocolate glaze:
2 Tablespoons melted butter
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips
another splash of orange liqueur (or 1 Tablespoon orange rind)
Once cooled, add cherries or raspberries, or a raspberry coulee
Almond/Chocolate Lace Cookies
Preheat oven to 350.
Melt:
1/2 cup (one cube) butter
1/2 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons 1/2 'n 1/2
1 Tablespoon flour
When melted, stir in
3/4 cup finely ground almond meal
Place 5 or 6 teaspoons of batter on a well-greased and floured baking sheet. Give them lots of space, because they'll spread out wide and thin.
Bake for about 8 minutes. Remove, allow to cool for a minute or so, then place face down on a paper towel to finish cooling. Repeat with the rest of the batter. You should wind up with 24 to 30 cookies in all.
Once all the cookies are baked and cooled, drizzle them with chocolate made by melting about 1 ounce of cocoa butter and 4 to 5 ounces of semi-sweet chocolate chips together.
Place the chocolate-drizzled cookies in the fridge so the chocolate can harden.
Devour.
I hosted a seder for nine people last Wednesday for the first night of Pesach, and attended a friend's very abbreviated seder last night.(Mostly it was a dinner party that used Passover as an excuse to gather, although we did tell the Exodus story and eat all the ceremonial foods, so I guess it counts as a seder.)
My charoset (which is chunky, not paste-like) is delicious, and at least one friend says it's the best she's ever had. Also, both the desserts I made were a big hit. So here, in my inimitable style, are the recipes for those three dishes. There's still two more nights of Passover, if you want to give them a try. Or heck, eat them any old time of the year!
Charoset
Finely chop and combine:
2 apples
approx. 1/2 cup raisins
approx. 1/2 cup dates
approx. 1/4 cup dried cherries
1 orange
approx. 1/2 cup walnuts or pecans
sprinkle with a bit of cinnamon and cloves
moisten with kosher blackberry wine or grape juice. If using grape juice, squeeze in the juice from half a Meyer's lemon, too.
Mix well and let sit, covered and refrigerated, for several hours so the flavors mingle nicely.
Serve as a fruit salad, or as a Hillel sandwich (matzah with horseradish and charoset).
Claire's Passover Sachertorte
Preheat oven to 325
Butter the bottom -- but not the sides -- of a 9 inch spring form pan
Melt 5 ounces semi-sweet chocolate chips (I use Guittard)
Beat 5 egg whites until stiff
Cream
3/4 cup sugar (although I used about 1/2 cup of agave nectar)
3/4 cup butter
either 1 teaspoon orange rind, or a splash of orange liqueur (I used Triple Sec)
3/4 cup finely ground almond meal
5 egg yolks
Beat in the melted chocolate
Gradually fold in the stiff egg whites
Pour into spring form pan and bake for 50 minutes to an hour.
Top with a chocolate glaze:
2 Tablespoons melted butter
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips
another splash of orange liqueur (or 1 Tablespoon orange rind)
Once cooled, add cherries or raspberries, or a raspberry coulee
Almond/Chocolate Lace Cookies
Preheat oven to 350.
Melt:
1/2 cup (one cube) butter
1/2 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons 1/2 'n 1/2
1 Tablespoon flour
When melted, stir in
3/4 cup finely ground almond meal
Place 5 or 6 teaspoons of batter on a well-greased and floured baking sheet. Give them lots of space, because they'll spread out wide and thin.
Bake for about 8 minutes. Remove, allow to cool for a minute or so, then place face down on a paper towel to finish cooling. Repeat with the rest of the batter. You should wind up with 24 to 30 cookies in all.
Once all the cookies are baked and cooled, drizzle them with chocolate made by melting about 1 ounce of cocoa butter and 4 to 5 ounces of semi-sweet chocolate chips together.
Place the chocolate-drizzled cookies in the fridge so the chocolate can harden.
Devour.
27 November 2008
Pies! Pumpkin, Pecan, and Mince (sort of)
Here are three Thanksgiving pie recipes that are healthier than the usual versions – and tastier, too!
Pumpkin Pie
(I use fresh pumpkin – cut a small sugar pumpkin open, remove the seeds and gook, then bake, covered, until soft. Scrape the pie meat away from the shell, compost the shell, and use the meat.)
Puree in a blender:
2 cups pumpkin
2 cups half and half
½ to ¾ cup honey
2 Tablespoons molasses (Aunt Patty’s, unsulphured)
2 eggs
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
2 teaspoons ground ginger
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Pour into a single pie crust (basic recipe is 1 cup flour, 1/3 cup butter, and 5 or so Tablespoons cold water or milk – can jazz up with a bit of spices and sugar)
Bake at 450 for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 and bake for another 45 minutes or so, until the pumpkin has set and is beginning to crack. Cool before eating.
Pecan Pie (without corn syrup!)
Beat together:
3 eggs
½ cup brown sugar
½ cup agave nectar
5 Tablespoons melted butter
1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups pecans (lightly toasted)
Pour into a single pie crust (see above recipe for pumpkin pie) and bake at 350 until done.
Cool before eating.
Also, I tried an experiment that came out pretty good. This is a general guideline, not a recipe as such. I think of it as my Sort-of Mock Mince Pie
Combine:
4 to 5 sliced, peeled apples
About a cup of dried fruit of your choice. I had figs, cranberries, cherries, and raisins on hand, so that’s what I used.
Season with cinnamon and cloves
Splash in some brandy (maybe ¼ cup?)
Throw in some pecan pieces
This one has both a bottom and top crust, decorated as you wish. Bake for 10 minutes at 450, then reduce heat to 350 until golden brown – about 45 or 50 minutes. Cool before eating.
Pumpkin Pie
(I use fresh pumpkin – cut a small sugar pumpkin open, remove the seeds and gook, then bake, covered, until soft. Scrape the pie meat away from the shell, compost the shell, and use the meat.)
Puree in a blender:
2 cups pumpkin
2 cups half and half
½ to ¾ cup honey
2 Tablespoons molasses (Aunt Patty’s, unsulphured)
2 eggs
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
2 teaspoons ground ginger
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Pour into a single pie crust (basic recipe is 1 cup flour, 1/3 cup butter, and 5 or so Tablespoons cold water or milk – can jazz up with a bit of spices and sugar)
Bake at 450 for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 and bake for another 45 minutes or so, until the pumpkin has set and is beginning to crack. Cool before eating.
Pecan Pie (without corn syrup!)
Beat together:
3 eggs
½ cup brown sugar
½ cup agave nectar
5 Tablespoons melted butter
1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups pecans (lightly toasted)
Pour into a single pie crust (see above recipe for pumpkin pie) and bake at 350 until done.
Cool before eating.
Also, I tried an experiment that came out pretty good. This is a general guideline, not a recipe as such. I think of it as my Sort-of Mock Mince Pie
Combine:
4 to 5 sliced, peeled apples
About a cup of dried fruit of your choice. I had figs, cranberries, cherries, and raisins on hand, so that’s what I used.
Season with cinnamon and cloves
Splash in some brandy (maybe ¼ cup?)
Throw in some pecan pieces
This one has both a bottom and top crust, decorated as you wish. Bake for 10 minutes at 450, then reduce heat to 350 until golden brown – about 45 or 50 minutes. Cool before eating.
13 November 2008
Creamed Spinach, Garlic Kale, White Beans, and Creamy Polenta
Oy, two months already since I last wrote? Okay, I’m a lousy blogger. But then, I’m not writing to be a blogger; I’m writing to share my thoughts, recipes, and life with whoever’s out there reading. (Hello? Anybody there?)
Garden update: Except for micro-slug damage, the winter veggies are doing well. The garlic has sent up its leaves, and the greens are beginning to show up at the dinner table. I’ve harvested the first round of spinach, plucking the largest leaves from the outer edges of each plant. Made an amazingly delicious creamed spinach by wilting the spinach, then covering it with a bechamel sauce (make a roux from 2 tablespoons each of melted butter and flour, then add about a cup of milk and stir it in until thickened) seasoned with a packet of Simply Organic’s onion soup mix.
I’ve also made one meal from the kale – sautéing it with garlic and serving it with white beans and creamy polenta. To make the white beans, soak 1 cup of them overnight, then:
Sauté one chopped onion
Add the beans
Add sprigs of thyme, rosemary, and sage
Add whole, peeled garlic (an entire head)
Add just enough water to cover the beans
Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Cook, covered, for a couple of hours, or until the beans have softened.
If you’d like, add two Aidel’s chicken apple sausages, sliced into ½ inch pieces, about ½ hour before the beans are done.
Serve the beans with the garlic kale over creamy polenta:
Bring 4 cups of liquid to a boil. I use 3 cups of chicken broth and one cup of milk or cream.
Add 1 cup of polenta
Reduce heat to medium and stir constantly for five minutes, then reduce heat further, to a simmer, and continue stirring regularly for 10 to 15 minutes, until the liquid is asbsorbed and the polenta has thickened.
Stir in ½ cup of mild grated cheese – I like fontina or jack
Add one small diced red bellpepper
Remove from heat and serve
Reheated polenta for lunch:
A client of mine turned me on to this. She takes a slice of leftover polenta and heats it briefly in the microwave. (Not owning – or wanting – a microwave, I use the toaster oven.) Then she drizzles olive oil on it and sprinkles it with pepper, toasted sunflower seeds, and a bit of grated parmesan cheese. Yum!
Farmer’s market only has two more Saturdays before it closes for the winter. Luckily, the garden is like a mini farmer’s market. Waiting patiently for me to choose them are beets, chard, kale, and spinach. And I saw the beginnings of a broccoli.
Also, the apples are ready to harvest. I’ll probably wind up drying them or making applesauce. They’re Fujis, and don’t taste very good. No doubt some of them will wind up in the Thanksgiving stuffing, and possibly in a pie. I’m thinking about taking some pears a friend canned that are too sweet for my taste and making a pie with them, apples, figs, cranberries, brandy, cinnamon and cloves, and I’m not sure what else.
Garden update: Except for micro-slug damage, the winter veggies are doing well. The garlic has sent up its leaves, and the greens are beginning to show up at the dinner table. I’ve harvested the first round of spinach, plucking the largest leaves from the outer edges of each plant. Made an amazingly delicious creamed spinach by wilting the spinach, then covering it with a bechamel sauce (make a roux from 2 tablespoons each of melted butter and flour, then add about a cup of milk and stir it in until thickened) seasoned with a packet of Simply Organic’s onion soup mix.
I’ve also made one meal from the kale – sautéing it with garlic and serving it with white beans and creamy polenta. To make the white beans, soak 1 cup of them overnight, then:
Sauté one chopped onion
Add the beans
Add sprigs of thyme, rosemary, and sage
Add whole, peeled garlic (an entire head)
Add just enough water to cover the beans
Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Cook, covered, for a couple of hours, or until the beans have softened.
If you’d like, add two Aidel’s chicken apple sausages, sliced into ½ inch pieces, about ½ hour before the beans are done.
Serve the beans with the garlic kale over creamy polenta:
Bring 4 cups of liquid to a boil. I use 3 cups of chicken broth and one cup of milk or cream.
Add 1 cup of polenta
Reduce heat to medium and stir constantly for five minutes, then reduce heat further, to a simmer, and continue stirring regularly for 10 to 15 minutes, until the liquid is asbsorbed and the polenta has thickened.
Stir in ½ cup of mild grated cheese – I like fontina or jack
Add one small diced red bellpepper
Remove from heat and serve
Reheated polenta for lunch:
A client of mine turned me on to this. She takes a slice of leftover polenta and heats it briefly in the microwave. (Not owning – or wanting – a microwave, I use the toaster oven.) Then she drizzles olive oil on it and sprinkles it with pepper, toasted sunflower seeds, and a bit of grated parmesan cheese. Yum!
Farmer’s market only has two more Saturdays before it closes for the winter. Luckily, the garden is like a mini farmer’s market. Waiting patiently for me to choose them are beets, chard, kale, and spinach. And I saw the beginnings of a broccoli.
Also, the apples are ready to harvest. I’ll probably wind up drying them or making applesauce. They’re Fujis, and don’t taste very good. No doubt some of them will wind up in the Thanksgiving stuffing, and possibly in a pie. I’m thinking about taking some pears a friend canned that are too sweet for my taste and making a pie with them, apples, figs, cranberries, brandy, cinnamon and cloves, and I’m not sure what else.
11 September 2008
Veggie Songs
Peas squeak.
Seriously. When I pick the snow peas from the vine and place them in my hand, they gently rub against each other and produce a squeaking sound. It’s quite charming.
The green beans are quieter, issuing a small percussive snap when I break them free. Although would somebody please remind me next spring that I’m fonder of the idea of yellow wax beans than of the taste? I think there must be something about leaving the beans on the vine long enough to yellow that causes them to get a bit too starchy and tough. The Haricots Verts, however, are delicious: fresh and crunchy.
The sound of dill is softer yet. I picked a paper-lunch-bag full of dill leaves and set them out to dry, the whole time telling the dill how wonderful it smelled and that I was grateful for it; that it would be used well in spanakopita and zucchini latkes, in bread, and maybe even on fish.
And snails make a satisfying (if guilt-ridden) smack as they hit the pavement, having been launched over the fence once discovered hiding among the bean leaves.
This morning was dedicated to harvest. I walked over to the neighbors and picked up two dozen eggs, five of which I gathered directly from the hen house. (The cackling and carrying on of chickens is its own symphony of sorts.) While there, I helped myself (upon my neighbor’s invitation) to zucchini: four little, four medium, and one huge honker (for stuffing). Three small tomatoes made their way home with me, too, destined for tonight’s pizza. Then I wandered into my own garden, from which I harvested ½ pound each of peas and green beans, the bag of dill, and two bouquets worth of flowers (mostly dahlias).
Meanwhile, a loaf of oatmeal bread was baking. And later today I’ll wander over to the cows’ side of the pasture to collect blackberries. I’ve picked and frozen four one-pound bags so far, but would be happier with more. I love blackberries.
But what I love even more is gathering, and eating from my surroundings. I’m reading Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle right now (I’m in June), and am absolutely loving it. She’s a wonderful writer, and her attitude is refreshing. I wind up comparing her year-long experiment of eating only local food with Judith Levine’s Not Buying It. Where Levine came from a place of deprivation, Kingsolver embraces the challenge with a mindset of abundance and gratitude. And her daughter’s recipes are enticing – I will definitely be trying them. In fact, the book may wind up living on my cookbook shelf once I’m done.
Not that I’m ready to take the localvore pledge, but that’s mostly because of the dearth of local grains where I live. But I eat mostly local food, and of that, probably 90% organic.
In fact, one of the things that amuses me as I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is the differences in crop availability. Kingsolver lives in a region that has seasons – snow, even. She also has more heat than we do here on the coast. My god, she’s talking about teasing tomatoes ripe in mid June! Here it is mid September, and my tomatoes are still little green guys. (My neighbor has a warmer garden plot, shielded from the wind, and his tomatoes are up against a wall that adds reflected heat. Hence he has some ripe already.) I can’t even think about growing hot-weather crops: melons, peppers, eggplant… Of course, I’m allergic to them, so for me it doesn’t matter.
Also, everything seems to be late this year. The first of my sunflowers just opened its sunny face today. And most of my dahlias are tight buds. Hopefully this means it’s not too late for me to put in the winter garden. I planted broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, kale, chard, spinach, and onion starts on Sunday.
------
My goodness, searching through my posts to provide links to recipes, I realized that I never shared my recipe for spanakopita. I apologize! Here it is:
Wilt one pound of cleaned spinach leaves.
Transfer the spinach to a large bowl and add:
8 ounces crumbled feta
one bunch of scallions, chopped
dill (about 1/2 cup fresh, or two Tablespoons dried)
mint (about1/4 cup fresh, or one Tablespoon dried)
nutmeg (just a light sprinkling)
Pepper (to taste)
You can also add:
toasted pine nuts (about 1/4 cup)
cottage cheese (to give it more bulk, up to 8 ounces)
Melt 4 Tablespoons butter and 4 Tablespoons olive oil together.
Brush the bottom of a square pyrex with the butter/oil.
Now begin the layering/buttering process with the phyllo dough, one sheet at a time, until you have about a dozen buttered sheets in the dish. Place your spinach/feta/herbs mixture on top of the phyllo, then proceed to cover it, one buttered sheet at a time, for another 8 to 12 sheets. Tuck it all in, brush the top with yet more butter, and bake at 350 until golden brown.
Warning: the measurements here are off the top of my head. You may need to tweak them. As always, I'm assuming you know how to cook and am offering the recipe as a guide.
Seriously. When I pick the snow peas from the vine and place them in my hand, they gently rub against each other and produce a squeaking sound. It’s quite charming.
The green beans are quieter, issuing a small percussive snap when I break them free. Although would somebody please remind me next spring that I’m fonder of the idea of yellow wax beans than of the taste? I think there must be something about leaving the beans on the vine long enough to yellow that causes them to get a bit too starchy and tough. The Haricots Verts, however, are delicious: fresh and crunchy.
The sound of dill is softer yet. I picked a paper-lunch-bag full of dill leaves and set them out to dry, the whole time telling the dill how wonderful it smelled and that I was grateful for it; that it would be used well in spanakopita and zucchini latkes, in bread, and maybe even on fish.
And snails make a satisfying (if guilt-ridden) smack as they hit the pavement, having been launched over the fence once discovered hiding among the bean leaves.
This morning was dedicated to harvest. I walked over to the neighbors and picked up two dozen eggs, five of which I gathered directly from the hen house. (The cackling and carrying on of chickens is its own symphony of sorts.) While there, I helped myself (upon my neighbor’s invitation) to zucchini: four little, four medium, and one huge honker (for stuffing). Three small tomatoes made their way home with me, too, destined for tonight’s pizza. Then I wandered into my own garden, from which I harvested ½ pound each of peas and green beans, the bag of dill, and two bouquets worth of flowers (mostly dahlias).
Meanwhile, a loaf of oatmeal bread was baking. And later today I’ll wander over to the cows’ side of the pasture to collect blackberries. I’ve picked and frozen four one-pound bags so far, but would be happier with more. I love blackberries.
But what I love even more is gathering, and eating from my surroundings. I’m reading Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle right now (I’m in June), and am absolutely loving it. She’s a wonderful writer, and her attitude is refreshing. I wind up comparing her year-long experiment of eating only local food with Judith Levine’s Not Buying It. Where Levine came from a place of deprivation, Kingsolver embraces the challenge with a mindset of abundance and gratitude. And her daughter’s recipes are enticing – I will definitely be trying them. In fact, the book may wind up living on my cookbook shelf once I’m done.
Not that I’m ready to take the localvore pledge, but that’s mostly because of the dearth of local grains where I live. But I eat mostly local food, and of that, probably 90% organic.
In fact, one of the things that amuses me as I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is the differences in crop availability. Kingsolver lives in a region that has seasons – snow, even. She also has more heat than we do here on the coast. My god, she’s talking about teasing tomatoes ripe in mid June! Here it is mid September, and my tomatoes are still little green guys. (My neighbor has a warmer garden plot, shielded from the wind, and his tomatoes are up against a wall that adds reflected heat. Hence he has some ripe already.) I can’t even think about growing hot-weather crops: melons, peppers, eggplant… Of course, I’m allergic to them, so for me it doesn’t matter.
Also, everything seems to be late this year. The first of my sunflowers just opened its sunny face today. And most of my dahlias are tight buds. Hopefully this means it’s not too late for me to put in the winter garden. I planted broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, kale, chard, spinach, and onion starts on Sunday.
------
My goodness, searching through my posts to provide links to recipes, I realized that I never shared my recipe for spanakopita. I apologize! Here it is:
Wilt one pound of cleaned spinach leaves.
Transfer the spinach to a large bowl and add:
8 ounces crumbled feta
one bunch of scallions, chopped
dill (about 1/2 cup fresh, or two Tablespoons dried)
mint (about1/4 cup fresh, or one Tablespoon dried)
nutmeg (just a light sprinkling)
Pepper (to taste)
You can also add:
toasted pine nuts (about 1/4 cup)
cottage cheese (to give it more bulk, up to 8 ounces)
Melt 4 Tablespoons butter and 4 Tablespoons olive oil together.
Brush the bottom of a square pyrex with the butter/oil.
Now begin the layering/buttering process with the phyllo dough, one sheet at a time, until you have about a dozen buttered sheets in the dish. Place your spinach/feta/herbs mixture on top of the phyllo, then proceed to cover it, one buttered sheet at a time, for another 8 to 12 sheets. Tuck it all in, brush the top with yet more butter, and bake at 350 until golden brown.
Warning: the measurements here are off the top of my head. You may need to tweak them. As always, I'm assuming you know how to cook and am offering the recipe as a guide.
06 September 2008
Being Prepared
September is National Preparedness Month.
Just yesterday, a couple of my fellow organizers and I wrote up an informational press release to help members of our community be prepared, just in case. Ironically, tonight when I came home from dinner out with a friend, I discovered that I had no running water. Apparently the water tank has run very low and, this being a dry (drought) year, the well has been inadequate in its duty of keeping the storage tank topped off. Oy. I’ve put a call in to Puryear water delivery so that Bill Puryear can bring me a load of water to refill the tank, which will set me back about a 100 bucks.
Luckily, I have water stashed here and there, enough to get through until Bill comes to save the day. And once I remembered that I have water stashed, I stopped stressing about the pipes being dry. Once again, I have everything I need for this instant, and can be grateful that all really is okay.
So, for your amusement and benefit, here are the preparedness tips that we wrote up yesterday. Hope they help you.
Prepare a communication plan. This includes important contact information for family and friends, and who will contact whom. Remember, if the power goes out and your phone cell dies, you will be without your phone list. So keep a written hard copy and an old-fashioned non-electric telephone handy.
Agree upon a reunion plan. Where will you meet, and when?
Stock up on the necessities of life. The general rule of thumb is three days and three nights of provisions to get you through 72 hours of living without electricity. (In Humboldt County, you may want to plan for longer outages.) Don’t forget your pets! Necessary provisions include one gallon of water per person per day, basic grains, and ready-to-eat, non-perishable food. Remember to include a manual can opener.
Pretend you’re camping. Have a camp stove, fuel, water purification system, a flashlight, extra batteries, candles, waterproof matches, toiletries, and a first aid kit readily accessible. (You may want to keep another first aid kit in your car, too.)
Don’t forget your medications. Advice varies, but we suggest having a two-week supply of all important prescriptions available. Remember to rotate them each time you refill your prescription so that they don’t expire.
Create a Grab and Go bag. This contains a change of clothes (extra underwear for children), jackets, blankets, basic toiletries, a picture of each family member, high-protein bars, bottled water, and your essential documents file. (For more information on creating a documents file, see below.)
Have a radio with extra batteries. A NOAA weather radio is a good idea, especially if you’re in a tsunami zone. Either way, tune to KHUM at 104.3 or 104.7 FM for excellent live local coverage.
How to Create a Documents File:
What goes in a documents file?
Anything that would be a nuisance to replace. This includes:
A copy of all the cards in your wallet, front and back.
A copy of your driver's license.
Your passport.
Other vital documents such as birth certificates, marriage licenses, adoption papers, naturalization papers, your social security card.
A copy of your most recent insurance policies.
Photos of your valuable possessions.
Photos of your pets and other family members.
Your vehicles' pink slips.
Any other deeds showing title to property.
A copy of your most recent tax return.
A copy of your "just in case" data -- all that information someone would need to pick up the pieces if anything happened to you. (You can purchase my e-booklet, Organizing Your Estate, which takes you through the steps for compiling this data. Go to www.wintersdaughterpress.com and click on e-books.)
Just yesterday, a couple of my fellow organizers and I wrote up an informational press release to help members of our community be prepared, just in case. Ironically, tonight when I came home from dinner out with a friend, I discovered that I had no running water. Apparently the water tank has run very low and, this being a dry (drought) year, the well has been inadequate in its duty of keeping the storage tank topped off. Oy. I’ve put a call in to Puryear water delivery so that Bill Puryear can bring me a load of water to refill the tank, which will set me back about a 100 bucks.
Luckily, I have water stashed here and there, enough to get through until Bill comes to save the day. And once I remembered that I have water stashed, I stopped stressing about the pipes being dry. Once again, I have everything I need for this instant, and can be grateful that all really is okay.
So, for your amusement and benefit, here are the preparedness tips that we wrote up yesterday. Hope they help you.
Prepare a communication plan. This includes important contact information for family and friends, and who will contact whom. Remember, if the power goes out and your phone cell dies, you will be without your phone list. So keep a written hard copy and an old-fashioned non-electric telephone handy.
Agree upon a reunion plan. Where will you meet, and when?
Stock up on the necessities of life. The general rule of thumb is three days and three nights of provisions to get you through 72 hours of living without electricity. (In Humboldt County, you may want to plan for longer outages.) Don’t forget your pets! Necessary provisions include one gallon of water per person per day, basic grains, and ready-to-eat, non-perishable food. Remember to include a manual can opener.
Pretend you’re camping. Have a camp stove, fuel, water purification system, a flashlight, extra batteries, candles, waterproof matches, toiletries, and a first aid kit readily accessible. (You may want to keep another first aid kit in your car, too.)
Don’t forget your medications. Advice varies, but we suggest having a two-week supply of all important prescriptions available. Remember to rotate them each time you refill your prescription so that they don’t expire.
Create a Grab and Go bag. This contains a change of clothes (extra underwear for children), jackets, blankets, basic toiletries, a picture of each family member, high-protein bars, bottled water, and your essential documents file. (For more information on creating a documents file, see below.)
Have a radio with extra batteries. A NOAA weather radio is a good idea, especially if you’re in a tsunami zone. Either way, tune to KHUM at 104.3 or 104.7 FM for excellent live local coverage.
How to Create a Documents File:
What goes in a documents file?
Anything that would be a nuisance to replace. This includes:
A copy of all the cards in your wallet, front and back.
A copy of your driver's license.
Your passport.
Other vital documents such as birth certificates, marriage licenses, adoption papers, naturalization papers, your social security card.
A copy of your most recent insurance policies.
Photos of your valuable possessions.
Photos of your pets and other family members.
Your vehicles' pink slips.
Any other deeds showing title to property.
A copy of your most recent tax return.
A copy of your "just in case" data -- all that information someone would need to pick up the pieces if anything happened to you. (You can purchase my e-booklet, Organizing Your Estate, which takes you through the steps for compiling this data. Go to www.wintersdaughterpress.com and click on e-books.)
03 September 2008
Gleaning Fruit for the People
Yesterday’s Times-Standard had an article that made me think: Finally!
It’s a simple story about a woman who has the local food bank send in a volunteer gleaner to harvest the abundance of apples on her trees so that the fruit can go to people who need food.
Years ago, when I lived in San Rafael (Marin County, California), I would walk around my extended neighborhood and wonder at the plethora of produce wasting away on people’s unharvested trees. So much food! Apples, plums, figs, pomegranates, lemons, pears … why wasn’t anyone harvesting this? It seemed to me that there must be a way to have the fruit picked and distributed to those who were hungry. But no, I guess people were too concerned about their liability to have anyone come in and pick the trees clean.
Ah, but this is Humboldt County, not Marin. Not only does our local Food for People provide volunteer gleaners, it is part of the national Plant a Row for the Hungry program. As explained in the Times-Standard article, “Gardeners are asked to plant an extra row of food and donate it to Food for People, the food bank for Humboldt County. The purpose of the program is to ensure that everyone has access to the healthiest food choices available.”
Back in those Marin County days, times got tight. There was a period when my partner and I found ourselves needing the help of the local services. The saying “beggars can’t be choosers” was right on; the contents of the grocery bags we received were far from the healthy foods we tried our best to eat. Fresh organic produce? In our dreams. So I’m particularly pleased that programs exist to bring those apples (and whatever else folks plant or can’t keep up with themselves) to people needing help with groceries.
And who knows, with a bit of luck (and a lot more sweat), my garden may start producing enough to share with others! I’m excited – I got a worm bin for my birthday! And, I discovered yesterday, bats have finally moved into the bat house. So we’ve put a tray below their abode to catch their guano. Worm castings and bat guano – exciting shit.
It’s a simple story about a woman who has the local food bank send in a volunteer gleaner to harvest the abundance of apples on her trees so that the fruit can go to people who need food.
Years ago, when I lived in San Rafael (Marin County, California), I would walk around my extended neighborhood and wonder at the plethora of produce wasting away on people’s unharvested trees. So much food! Apples, plums, figs, pomegranates, lemons, pears … why wasn’t anyone harvesting this? It seemed to me that there must be a way to have the fruit picked and distributed to those who were hungry. But no, I guess people were too concerned about their liability to have anyone come in and pick the trees clean.
Ah, but this is Humboldt County, not Marin. Not only does our local Food for People provide volunteer gleaners, it is part of the national Plant a Row for the Hungry program. As explained in the Times-Standard article, “Gardeners are asked to plant an extra row of food and donate it to Food for People, the food bank for Humboldt County. The purpose of the program is to ensure that everyone has access to the healthiest food choices available.”
Back in those Marin County days, times got tight. There was a period when my partner and I found ourselves needing the help of the local services. The saying “beggars can’t be choosers” was right on; the contents of the grocery bags we received were far from the healthy foods we tried our best to eat. Fresh organic produce? In our dreams. So I’m particularly pleased that programs exist to bring those apples (and whatever else folks plant or can’t keep up with themselves) to people needing help with groceries.
And who knows, with a bit of luck (and a lot more sweat), my garden may start producing enough to share with others! I’m excited – I got a worm bin for my birthday! And, I discovered yesterday, bats have finally moved into the bat house. So we’ve put a tray below their abode to catch their guano. Worm castings and bat guano – exciting shit.
23 August 2008
Birthday Party Recipes
Today is the last day of my forties. It’s been a good last day. Went to the Farmers’ market, which was jumping. (The college students are back in town and are buzzing about, getting ready for school to start.) Then I picked up a friend who’s escaping the Phoenix heat, and we drove up to Trinidad for lunch and a brief walk on the beach. From there we went (organic!) blueberry picking at Wolfsen Farm – picked 3 pounds of blubes, all of which are now washed and in the freezer.
And then I began cooking for my birthday party tomorrow. Made three dips: spinach (sour cream, spinach, and Simply Organic’s onion soup mix); a smoked salmon spread (salmon smoked by one of the local tribes blended into cream cheese, seasoned with fresh dill, the juice of half a lemon, and a teaspoon of horseradish); and baba ghanouj. I apologize upfront for the inexact measurements, but I didn’t measure when I made it. Still, it came out so good that I thought I’d share this recipe with y’all.
Baba Ghanouj
Bake two whole eggplants and one large red bell pepper at 350 until they’ve collapsed (about an hour). You’ll want something underneath them – they get juicy/drippy/messy. (Save the juice!)
Once the baked veggies are cool enough to handle, remove their meat and put it into a blender. Add in:
3 large garlic cloves, minced
1 lemon (the juice of)
¼ cup (approximately) sesame tahini
¼ teaspoon salt
2 (or so) Tablespoons olive oil
the juice from the baked veggies
Blend until creamy. Taste, and adjust seasonings as desired.
Yum!
The other thing I made, last night, was a White Chocolate Cheesecake with Raspberry Swirl.
Melt ¼ cup of butter. Mix in a heaping cup of graham cracker crumbs and 1 Tablespoon ground cinnamon. Pat into the bottom of a springform pan, then put in the fridge to set while preparing the rest of the cake.
In a Cuisinarte, blend:
20 ounces cream cheese
4 eggs
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
8 ounces white chocolate, melted at a low heat in a double boiler
Pour this on top of the graham cracker crust. Swirl in a few Tablespoons of raspberry sauce (raspberries cooked over a double boiler with just enough sugar to take away the tartness).
Bake at 325 for 45 minutes to an hour – until the cake has set.
Remove from the oven and allow to cool before refrigerating.
Serve with the remaining raspberry sauce (which you reserved and kept in the fridge) drizzled on top.
And then I began cooking for my birthday party tomorrow. Made three dips: spinach (sour cream, spinach, and Simply Organic’s onion soup mix); a smoked salmon spread (salmon smoked by one of the local tribes blended into cream cheese, seasoned with fresh dill, the juice of half a lemon, and a teaspoon of horseradish); and baba ghanouj. I apologize upfront for the inexact measurements, but I didn’t measure when I made it. Still, it came out so good that I thought I’d share this recipe with y’all.
Baba Ghanouj
Bake two whole eggplants and one large red bell pepper at 350 until they’ve collapsed (about an hour). You’ll want something underneath them – they get juicy/drippy/messy. (Save the juice!)
Once the baked veggies are cool enough to handle, remove their meat and put it into a blender. Add in:
3 large garlic cloves, minced
1 lemon (the juice of)
¼ cup (approximately) sesame tahini
¼ teaspoon salt
2 (or so) Tablespoons olive oil
the juice from the baked veggies
Blend until creamy. Taste, and adjust seasonings as desired.
Yum!
The other thing I made, last night, was a White Chocolate Cheesecake with Raspberry Swirl.
Melt ¼ cup of butter. Mix in a heaping cup of graham cracker crumbs and 1 Tablespoon ground cinnamon. Pat into the bottom of a springform pan, then put in the fridge to set while preparing the rest of the cake.
In a Cuisinarte, blend:
20 ounces cream cheese
4 eggs
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
8 ounces white chocolate, melted at a low heat in a double boiler
Pour this on top of the graham cracker crust. Swirl in a few Tablespoons of raspberry sauce (raspberries cooked over a double boiler with just enough sugar to take away the tartness).
Bake at 325 for 45 minutes to an hour – until the cake has set.
Remove from the oven and allow to cool before refrigerating.
Serve with the remaining raspberry sauce (which you reserved and kept in the fridge) drizzled on top.
21 August 2008
A Gift to Myself
Listening to a radio show yesterday, I heard the question:
If you were dying soon and had only one phone call to make, who would you call and what would you say?
Normally this kind of question doesn’t work for me. I’m not good at choosing a favorite this or a best that. But the answer came to me immediately.
Anthony. I’d call Anthony and tell him I was sorry, that I never meant to hurt him, and that I love him deeply and dearly.
The radio host ended her show with the obvious question: Then why haven’t you called?
Well, in my case, it’s because he’s clearly asked me to leave him the hell alone. And because I love him, I am respecting his desire not to have contact with me.
But I miss the daylights out of him. Not as my partner/boyfriend. I still believe that our differences and desires were such that being a couple wasn’t the best configuration for us. But Anthony was also my best friend, and I miss his friendship. I miss his playfulness and humor and kindness. I miss our shared history. I miss his companionship, his voice, his silly notes, his cats. I miss being a part of his life, and his participation in mine.
I also remain convinced that breaking up was the best thing for both of us. I hear reports of his life and, from what I hear, he is indeed finding his wings. Which is what I’d hoped would happen when I removed my mothering self from his day-to-day life.
It’s an interesting combination of emotions, to be living with Ronnie and still missing Ant. And it’s hard, knowing that Anthony feels so strongly against me. I never, ever, meant harm.
On a related note: Melanie, my teacher, made an intriguing suggestion to me in class last night. We were discussing which attachments are holding us back. I realized that my biggest challenge was my attachment to how other people think of me. (This probably goes back to growing up with a volatile mother, and becoming hypersensitive to other people’s moods as a survival mechanism.)
Melanie suggested giving myself a birthday present. (I turn 50 this coming Sunday!) She says she does this every year. One year she gave herself the gift of not having to participate in boring conversations for a year. Anyway, she proposed that I gift myself with not caring what other people think of me.
Hmmm… Is this possible? I’ve been told that, at 50, women do exactly this. They stop giving a rat’s ass what others think and step into their own power. I like the idea. Of course, I still care what I think of myself – my integrity remains intact. I guess the idea is to become my own mirror, rather than looking to others for validation.
It’s worth a try!
If you were dying soon and had only one phone call to make, who would you call and what would you say?
Normally this kind of question doesn’t work for me. I’m not good at choosing a favorite this or a best that. But the answer came to me immediately.
Anthony. I’d call Anthony and tell him I was sorry, that I never meant to hurt him, and that I love him deeply and dearly.
The radio host ended her show with the obvious question: Then why haven’t you called?
Well, in my case, it’s because he’s clearly asked me to leave him the hell alone. And because I love him, I am respecting his desire not to have contact with me.
But I miss the daylights out of him. Not as my partner/boyfriend. I still believe that our differences and desires were such that being a couple wasn’t the best configuration for us. But Anthony was also my best friend, and I miss his friendship. I miss his playfulness and humor and kindness. I miss our shared history. I miss his companionship, his voice, his silly notes, his cats. I miss being a part of his life, and his participation in mine.
I also remain convinced that breaking up was the best thing for both of us. I hear reports of his life and, from what I hear, he is indeed finding his wings. Which is what I’d hoped would happen when I removed my mothering self from his day-to-day life.
It’s an interesting combination of emotions, to be living with Ronnie and still missing Ant. And it’s hard, knowing that Anthony feels so strongly against me. I never, ever, meant harm.
On a related note: Melanie, my teacher, made an intriguing suggestion to me in class last night. We were discussing which attachments are holding us back. I realized that my biggest challenge was my attachment to how other people think of me. (This probably goes back to growing up with a volatile mother, and becoming hypersensitive to other people’s moods as a survival mechanism.)
Melanie suggested giving myself a birthday present. (I turn 50 this coming Sunday!) She says she does this every year. One year she gave herself the gift of not having to participate in boring conversations for a year. Anyway, she proposed that I gift myself with not caring what other people think of me.
Hmmm… Is this possible? I’ve been told that, at 50, women do exactly this. They stop giving a rat’s ass what others think and step into their own power. I like the idea. Of course, I still care what I think of myself – my integrity remains intact. I guess the idea is to become my own mirror, rather than looking to others for validation.
It’s worth a try!
20 August 2008
Those Special Folks from Our Past
I got a very special phone call today, one I never anticipated receiving.
A former student of mine, from the year I taught sixth grade (1989-1990), found me on the Internet and called. He’s pushing 30 now, has a young family and a career. But he’d run across one of those “who was a special teacher in your life?” questions and, once again, as he has over the years, he thought of me. So he looked me up and called, just to tell me that I had made a difference in his life, that I wasn’t like all the other teachers and that was why he and his classmates liked me – I was a real human being, more like a friend.
Oh my God – what a blessing! I remembered that year – my last year as a classroom teacher – as my year from hell. The principal had it out for me, and one of the students made life difficult because he’d really wanted to be in the other sixth-grade classroom with the “cool” teacher. I liked the kids, and I like to think I was an okay teacher. But never in my dreams did I think I’d made a memorable impact on those kids.
And a couple of weeks ago I received a shy “hello” from an old college colleague. I spent my senior year at Sonoma State as second-in-command on the school paper. My colleague was the editor the second semester, so we worked side by side for several months. And haven’t heard from each other since graduating in 1981. I’ve thoroughly been enjoying exchanging emails with him, and am looking forward to his visiting (with his wife) in the fall.
All of which has me thinking about former teachers who made a difference in my life. I can think of four.
Mrs. Fortman – a formidable English teacher at Analy High. It was because of her that I read Chaim Potok’s The Chosen and Dalton Trumbo’s Johnny Got His Gun. She appeared gruff and stern, but her classroom library was filled with thought-provoking (and somewhat radical) novels.
Russ Reade – also at Analy. Russ taught Social Biology, which was one of the two classes I actually showed up on campus for that year. He had us researching and thinking about issues like cryogenics and euthanasia – it was really more like a class on scientific ethics. He retired a short while later to buy a whore house in Nevada.
Cott Hobart – was my Humanities teacher at Santa Rosa Junior College. I hold Cott personally responsible for gifting me with my spiritual path. He introduced us to Joseph Campbell and Carl Jung, and taught about the Eleusinian Mysteries. These have been my spiritual reference points ever since.
Gerry Haslam – taught English and linguistics at Sonoma State. He’s also a writer, and I own several of his books. (I keep very few books.) Gerry was also the faculty advisor on the college paper, so we got to know him reasonably well. He’s one of the most decent human beings I’ve ever met.
Who were your special teachers? And have you let them know?
A former student of mine, from the year I taught sixth grade (1989-1990), found me on the Internet and called. He’s pushing 30 now, has a young family and a career. But he’d run across one of those “who was a special teacher in your life?” questions and, once again, as he has over the years, he thought of me. So he looked me up and called, just to tell me that I had made a difference in his life, that I wasn’t like all the other teachers and that was why he and his classmates liked me – I was a real human being, more like a friend.
Oh my God – what a blessing! I remembered that year – my last year as a classroom teacher – as my year from hell. The principal had it out for me, and one of the students made life difficult because he’d really wanted to be in the other sixth-grade classroom with the “cool” teacher. I liked the kids, and I like to think I was an okay teacher. But never in my dreams did I think I’d made a memorable impact on those kids.
And a couple of weeks ago I received a shy “hello” from an old college colleague. I spent my senior year at Sonoma State as second-in-command on the school paper. My colleague was the editor the second semester, so we worked side by side for several months. And haven’t heard from each other since graduating in 1981. I’ve thoroughly been enjoying exchanging emails with him, and am looking forward to his visiting (with his wife) in the fall.
All of which has me thinking about former teachers who made a difference in my life. I can think of four.
Mrs. Fortman – a formidable English teacher at Analy High. It was because of her that I read Chaim Potok’s The Chosen and Dalton Trumbo’s Johnny Got His Gun. She appeared gruff and stern, but her classroom library was filled with thought-provoking (and somewhat radical) novels.
Russ Reade – also at Analy. Russ taught Social Biology, which was one of the two classes I actually showed up on campus for that year. He had us researching and thinking about issues like cryogenics and euthanasia – it was really more like a class on scientific ethics. He retired a short while later to buy a whore house in Nevada.
Cott Hobart – was my Humanities teacher at Santa Rosa Junior College. I hold Cott personally responsible for gifting me with my spiritual path. He introduced us to Joseph Campbell and Carl Jung, and taught about the Eleusinian Mysteries. These have been my spiritual reference points ever since.
Gerry Haslam – taught English and linguistics at Sonoma State. He’s also a writer, and I own several of his books. (I keep very few books.) Gerry was also the faculty advisor on the college paper, so we got to know him reasonably well. He’s one of the most decent human beings I’ve ever met.
Who were your special teachers? And have you let them know?
13 August 2008
Summer Recipes
Seems all I’m doing these days is cooking. Which isn’t literally true, but it sure feels that way! Sunday I made veggie lasagna and two kinds of bread. Monday I made my sugar-free apple pie. (See “Apples” for the pie recipe.) Yesterday I made a version of my Southeast Asian shrimp/rice noodle salad. Today – in addition to clarifying almost a pound of butter – I finally dealt with the substantial donation of zucchini that my neighbors brought by on Sunday. (Grated it up, froze some of it, and turned the rest into a cake. Oh, and dedicated the two largest zukes to being stuffed. (See “Cooking Caveat” for the stuffed zucchini recipe.)
One of my readers recently told me that he’s tried several of my recipes – both here and in Following Raven, Finding Ground – and that they’re good. (They are!) Encouraged by his positive feedback, I’ve decided to share the recipes for my recent culinary endeavors. Enjoy!
Light Rye Bread (made in my bread maker on basic setting)
11 ounces water
1 teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons olive oil
2 Tablespoons (packed) brown sugar
3 cups unbleached white flour
1 cup rye flour
¼ cup flax meal
1 heaping Tablespoon dried dill
2 Tablespoons (or so) caraway seeds
1 Tablespoon active dry yeast
Challah (made by hand in my wooden bread bowl)
Mix:
1 cup milk
3 Tablespoons sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons salt
½ stick of butter
2 eggs
Add:
4 cups (plus) of bread flour
¼ cup flax meal
2 teaspoons yeast
(poppy seeds)
Knead until satiny and springy.
Cover and allow to rise.
Punch down, knead briefly, and allow to rise a second time.
Punch down, knead briefly, and break into three equal pieces. Roll these out into ropes, braid them, and allow to rise a third time, this time in a warm oven. (You can brush the top at this point with egg wash, and/or sprinkle on seeds.)
Bake at 350 until done, about 45 to 50 minutes.
Veggie Lasagna
A few hours before assembling, I start the tomato sauce, as follows:
Sautee:
One onion, diced
Lots and lots of chopped garlic (a whole head if you dare!)
Sliced mushrooms (about 1 cup)
Cubed zucchini (2 smallish ones)
Chopped tomatoes (I used two good-sized Brandywines)
Once the veggies have softened, add a 15 ounce can of tomato sauce and about ½ cup of red wine.
Season with (fresh if you have it!)
Oregano
Marjoram
Thyme
Cook, covered, over low heat for a couple/three hours, stirring occasionally.
Shortly before assembling, add 1 pound of cleaned spinach and a small bunch of fresh basil to the sauce.
Assemble in layers:
Enough sauce on the bottom to keep noodles from sticking
Lasagna noodles (cooked)
More sauce
Globs of Ricotta cheese (I use one pint total)
Globs of Pesto
Repeat: noodles, sauce, ricotta, pesto
Top: noodles and lots of sliced mozzarella cheese
Bake at 350 until bubbly and deep gold in color.
Chocolate Zucchini Cake
Cream:
½ cup butter
¼ cup oil
1-1/2 cups sugar
Blend in:
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
Add:
¼ cup cocoa
½ cup whole wheat flour
2 cups unbleached white flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
sprinkling of cinnamon
Mix in:
2 cups grated zucchini
Bake in a spring form pan at 350 for about 50 minutes.
Remove the side of the pan, allow to cool, then top with a chocolate glaze. (I melt about 1/8 cup of coconut oil over low heat, then remove it from the stove and mix in equal amounts of liquid sweetener (agave nectar or maple syrup, usually – sometimes both) and cocoa – about ¼ to ½ cup each. Adjust sweetener and cocoa to taste, then pour over the cake.
Southeast Asian Shrimp/Rice Noodle Salad
Chop and lay out on a large platter:
One small head of lettuce (I use red butter)
A healthy handful of fresh cilantro
A smaller handful of fresh basil
Several sprigs of fresh mint
You can also add a grated carrot and/or sliced green onions.
Top the vegetables with approximately 4 ounces of cooked rice noodles (Maifun).
Cook shelled shrimp in a dry skillet. (I am generous with the shrimp, usually allotting 9 or 10 for each person. Wood’s Wild American White Shrimp is especially delicious, and wild caught.) Place the shrimp on top of the cooked noodles.
Drizzle dressing over the salad, and sprinkle with toasted peanuts.
Dressing: (adjust to taste)
2 Tablespoons fish sauce
6 Tablespoons lime juice
1 teaspoon sesame oil
4 teaspoons sugar
minced ginger
fresh chopped mint
One of my readers recently told me that he’s tried several of my recipes – both here and in Following Raven, Finding Ground – and that they’re good. (They are!) Encouraged by his positive feedback, I’ve decided to share the recipes for my recent culinary endeavors. Enjoy!
Light Rye Bread (made in my bread maker on basic setting)
11 ounces water
1 teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons olive oil
2 Tablespoons (packed) brown sugar
3 cups unbleached white flour
1 cup rye flour
¼ cup flax meal
1 heaping Tablespoon dried dill
2 Tablespoons (or so) caraway seeds
1 Tablespoon active dry yeast
Challah (made by hand in my wooden bread bowl)
Mix:
1 cup milk
3 Tablespoons sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons salt
½ stick of butter
2 eggs
Add:
4 cups (plus) of bread flour
¼ cup flax meal
2 teaspoons yeast
(poppy seeds)
Knead until satiny and springy.
Cover and allow to rise.
Punch down, knead briefly, and allow to rise a second time.
Punch down, knead briefly, and break into three equal pieces. Roll these out into ropes, braid them, and allow to rise a third time, this time in a warm oven. (You can brush the top at this point with egg wash, and/or sprinkle on seeds.)
Bake at 350 until done, about 45 to 50 minutes.
Veggie Lasagna
A few hours before assembling, I start the tomato sauce, as follows:
Sautee:
One onion, diced
Lots and lots of chopped garlic (a whole head if you dare!)
Sliced mushrooms (about 1 cup)
Cubed zucchini (2 smallish ones)
Chopped tomatoes (I used two good-sized Brandywines)
Once the veggies have softened, add a 15 ounce can of tomato sauce and about ½ cup of red wine.
Season with (fresh if you have it!)
Oregano
Marjoram
Thyme
Cook, covered, over low heat for a couple/three hours, stirring occasionally.
Shortly before assembling, add 1 pound of cleaned spinach and a small bunch of fresh basil to the sauce.
Assemble in layers:
Enough sauce on the bottom to keep noodles from sticking
Lasagna noodles (cooked)
More sauce
Globs of Ricotta cheese (I use one pint total)
Globs of Pesto
Repeat: noodles, sauce, ricotta, pesto
Top: noodles and lots of sliced mozzarella cheese
Bake at 350 until bubbly and deep gold in color.
Chocolate Zucchini Cake
Cream:
½ cup butter
¼ cup oil
1-1/2 cups sugar
Blend in:
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
Add:
¼ cup cocoa
½ cup whole wheat flour
2 cups unbleached white flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
sprinkling of cinnamon
Mix in:
2 cups grated zucchini
Bake in a spring form pan at 350 for about 50 minutes.
Remove the side of the pan, allow to cool, then top with a chocolate glaze. (I melt about 1/8 cup of coconut oil over low heat, then remove it from the stove and mix in equal amounts of liquid sweetener (agave nectar or maple syrup, usually – sometimes both) and cocoa – about ¼ to ½ cup each. Adjust sweetener and cocoa to taste, then pour over the cake.
Southeast Asian Shrimp/Rice Noodle Salad
Chop and lay out on a large platter:
One small head of lettuce (I use red butter)
A healthy handful of fresh cilantro
A smaller handful of fresh basil
Several sprigs of fresh mint
You can also add a grated carrot and/or sliced green onions.
Top the vegetables with approximately 4 ounces of cooked rice noodles (Maifun).
Cook shelled shrimp in a dry skillet. (I am generous with the shrimp, usually allotting 9 or 10 for each person. Wood’s Wild American White Shrimp is especially delicious, and wild caught.) Place the shrimp on top of the cooked noodles.
Drizzle dressing over the salad, and sprinkle with toasted peanuts.
Dressing: (adjust to taste)
2 Tablespoons fish sauce
6 Tablespoons lime juice
1 teaspoon sesame oil
4 teaspoons sugar
minced ginger
fresh chopped mint
04 August 2008
A Whole New Mind
I recently finished reading Daniel Pink’s A Whole New Mind: Moving from the Information Age to the Conceptual Age. His premise is that, because of the influence of Abundance, Automation, and Asia, jobs that were traditionally mastered by left-brain people are becoming obsolete in our culture and right-brain skills are coming into demand. His opening paragraph reads:
The last few decades have belonged to a certain kind of person with a certain kind of mind – computer programmers who could crank code, lawyers who could craft contracts, MBAs who could crunch numbers. But the keys to the kingdom are changing hands. The future belongs to a very different kind of person with a very different kind of mind – creators and empathizers, pattern recognizers, and meaning makers. These people – artists, inventors, designers, storytellers, caregivers, consolers, big picture thinkers – will now reap society’s richest rewards and share its greatest joys.
These people, these right-brainers, sure look a lot like what gets called ADD. Which feeds into my ongoing thesis that ADD is a difference, not a disorder, and that it is an evolutionary shift toward wholeness. (For more on this thesis, see my other posts labeled ADD.) Not only is there an increase in people who are labeled ADD, but Pink shows that these people will actually be the ones most likely to prosper as our economy shifts. (He’s quick to point out, though, that romanticizing right-brain qualities as better than left brain is bogus, that what we need is an androgynous brain.)
To determine whether your career choice is a good fit for our current culture, Pink proposes three questions to ask yourself:
1. Can someone overseas do it cheaper?
2. Can a computer do it faster?
3. Is what I’m offering in demand in an age of abundance?
(Whoo-hoo! My work as a professional organizer meets the criteria!)
The last few decades have belonged to a certain kind of person with a certain kind of mind – computer programmers who could crank code, lawyers who could craft contracts, MBAs who could crunch numbers. But the keys to the kingdom are changing hands. The future belongs to a very different kind of person with a very different kind of mind – creators and empathizers, pattern recognizers, and meaning makers. These people – artists, inventors, designers, storytellers, caregivers, consolers, big picture thinkers – will now reap society’s richest rewards and share its greatest joys.
These people, these right-brainers, sure look a lot like what gets called ADD. Which feeds into my ongoing thesis that ADD is a difference, not a disorder, and that it is an evolutionary shift toward wholeness. (For more on this thesis, see my other posts labeled ADD.) Not only is there an increase in people who are labeled ADD, but Pink shows that these people will actually be the ones most likely to prosper as our economy shifts. (He’s quick to point out, though, that romanticizing right-brain qualities as better than left brain is bogus, that what we need is an androgynous brain.)
To determine whether your career choice is a good fit for our current culture, Pink proposes three questions to ask yourself:
1. Can someone overseas do it cheaper?
2. Can a computer do it faster?
3. Is what I’m offering in demand in an age of abundance?
(Whoo-hoo! My work as a professional organizer meets the criteria!)
17 June 2008
A Rainbow of Thankfulness
Chris Guillebeau, who writes at The Art of Nonconformity, was the guest blogger at Zen Habits recently. He wrote about living a life of gratitude, and challenged others to build a habit of gratitude.
Anyone who’s heard me lecture knows I’m big on gratitude, too. Principle #9 of my 12 Basic Principles of Being Organized is “Adopt an Attitude of Gratitude.” My usual rap is that much of our clutter comes from holding on “just in case,” from scarcity thinking, and that the opposite of scarcity is abundance and the quickest way to abundance is gratitude. By practicing gratitude every day, we build new neural pathways in our brain, much like curling weights builds biceps, or like water wears a new course over time. Daily gratitude becomes a habit, our default way of viewing the world, and teaches us that we are indeed blessed. In turn, we are better able to let go of the unnecessary in our lives, to simplify.
Anyway, that’s the rap. Today’s practice finds expression in color. There’s a line from a James Taylor song that runs through my head: “Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose.” Yes. Especially greens. Especially the greens of leaves, the warm young green of the underside of Big Leaf Maples as they’re lit by streaming sunlight from above, and the darker greens of firs and cedars and spruce in the forest behind. And the green of moss on river-wet stones.
Blue skies, of course, are always welcome here on the Pacific Northwest. Today brought the blue of the Pacific, too. After a leisurely late brunch in Trinidad, we went walking at Elk Head, eventually finding a niche along the cliff that provided some wind protection and a view of the ocean, with its two tones of blue – shallow turquoise meeting the deeper and darker, more true blue.
White gulls rode the thermals. As I lay in the warm sand, snuggled against Ronnie, I watched them glide by. One was having fun soaring backwards.
Of course, black ravens rode those same thermals.
Walking along the path we found native lilies just beginning to bloom, an almost pumpkin orange with brown spots. Red columbine with 5 bright yellow tubes in its center draped gracefully. Wild iris in varying shades of purple – from pale creamy with light purple striations to deep purple with yellow markings – brightened the trail. And cheery yellow buttercups (which are actually an invasive weed, but they’re so pretty!) decorated the open area by the parking lot.
On the way home, I noticed that the golden fields of mown pasture grass were now dotted with bales of hay. There’s something so pleasing about seeing acres of hay bales lined outside my kitchen window, extending clear across the valley.
Once we got home, I unpacked my wicker basket of produce that we’d bought at Farmer’s Market earlier in the day. Laid out on my fruit table are my favorite color -- three plates of red: raspberries, strawberries, and cherries. Oh my god do I love summer!!! For these fruits I am truly grateful…
And now, 10 o’clock at night, I look out my office window on a round white moon rising above the wooded hills.
Life is good.
Anyone who’s heard me lecture knows I’m big on gratitude, too. Principle #9 of my 12 Basic Principles of Being Organized is “Adopt an Attitude of Gratitude.” My usual rap is that much of our clutter comes from holding on “just in case,” from scarcity thinking, and that the opposite of scarcity is abundance and the quickest way to abundance is gratitude. By practicing gratitude every day, we build new neural pathways in our brain, much like curling weights builds biceps, or like water wears a new course over time. Daily gratitude becomes a habit, our default way of viewing the world, and teaches us that we are indeed blessed. In turn, we are better able to let go of the unnecessary in our lives, to simplify.
Anyway, that’s the rap. Today’s practice finds expression in color. There’s a line from a James Taylor song that runs through my head: “Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose.” Yes. Especially greens. Especially the greens of leaves, the warm young green of the underside of Big Leaf Maples as they’re lit by streaming sunlight from above, and the darker greens of firs and cedars and spruce in the forest behind. And the green of moss on river-wet stones.
Blue skies, of course, are always welcome here on the Pacific Northwest. Today brought the blue of the Pacific, too. After a leisurely late brunch in Trinidad, we went walking at Elk Head, eventually finding a niche along the cliff that provided some wind protection and a view of the ocean, with its two tones of blue – shallow turquoise meeting the deeper and darker, more true blue.
White gulls rode the thermals. As I lay in the warm sand, snuggled against Ronnie, I watched them glide by. One was having fun soaring backwards.
Of course, black ravens rode those same thermals.
Walking along the path we found native lilies just beginning to bloom, an almost pumpkin orange with brown spots. Red columbine with 5 bright yellow tubes in its center draped gracefully. Wild iris in varying shades of purple – from pale creamy with light purple striations to deep purple with yellow markings – brightened the trail. And cheery yellow buttercups (which are actually an invasive weed, but they’re so pretty!) decorated the open area by the parking lot.
On the way home, I noticed that the golden fields of mown pasture grass were now dotted with bales of hay. There’s something so pleasing about seeing acres of hay bales lined outside my kitchen window, extending clear across the valley.
Once we got home, I unpacked my wicker basket of produce that we’d bought at Farmer’s Market earlier in the day. Laid out on my fruit table are my favorite color -- three plates of red: raspberries, strawberries, and cherries. Oh my god do I love summer!!! For these fruits I am truly grateful…
And now, 10 o’clock at night, I look out my office window on a round white moon rising above the wooded hills.
Life is good.
16 June 2008
Recycling My Food
And I thought I was being so innovative…
You know that little piece of green onion that you cut off, along with the roots, when chopping up green onions? A while back, I decided that, instead of tossing them into my compost, I’d spoon them into the soil in my herb bed (a long planter box that Anthony built for me and that lives on my deck, right out my front door). Sure enough, those little darlings grew into brand-new (sorta) green onions. The ultimate in recycling and being “green,” eh?
Of course, I plant the garlic bulbs that have begun to sprout, too – and am happily harvesting fresh garlic as a result.
And a client recently gave me a bag of Warren Creek organic potatoes – Russets, Yukon Gold, Red Creamers, and Peruvian Purples – that had grown a tangle of roots in her ignored potato drawer. Those are now in the ground, covered with rice straw. A bit of luck and they’ll shoot out leaves, then, eventually, potatoes.
Turns out my recycling techniques are old hat, though. In this week’s North Coast Journal, Amy Stewart wrote a cute piece entitled “Eat Your Trash.” In it, she discusses the re-issue of Deborah Peterson’s Don’t Throw It, Grow It! 59 Windowsill Plants from Kitchen Scraps. To quote Amy: “There’s hardly a scrap of produce on your cutting board that can’t be given a second life, according to the authors. Carrot tops, garbanzo beans, peanuts, jicama, lemongrass, ginger – they can all be made to grow again. Spices and nuts can be sprouted as seeds, fruits and vegetables will grow from cuttings, and beans and peas will turn into climbing vines in a jiffy.”
You mean I can be recycling my carrots, too?
Of course, a lot of plants won’t produce here. Too much wind, not enough heat days. Rules out the possibility of ginger or lemongrass (both of which I like to cook with). And I think I read that growing beans is tricky. But maybe I can let some of my peas go all the way to seed, and then start new plants from them. (Duh – isn’t this the basis of seed saving? It’s a good thing I’m not dependent on my gardening to feed me. There’s so much I don’t know!)
What have you had success at re-growing?
You know that little piece of green onion that you cut off, along with the roots, when chopping up green onions? A while back, I decided that, instead of tossing them into my compost, I’d spoon them into the soil in my herb bed (a long planter box that Anthony built for me and that lives on my deck, right out my front door). Sure enough, those little darlings grew into brand-new (sorta) green onions. The ultimate in recycling and being “green,” eh?
Of course, I plant the garlic bulbs that have begun to sprout, too – and am happily harvesting fresh garlic as a result.
And a client recently gave me a bag of Warren Creek organic potatoes – Russets, Yukon Gold, Red Creamers, and Peruvian Purples – that had grown a tangle of roots in her ignored potato drawer. Those are now in the ground, covered with rice straw. A bit of luck and they’ll shoot out leaves, then, eventually, potatoes.
Turns out my recycling techniques are old hat, though. In this week’s North Coast Journal, Amy Stewart wrote a cute piece entitled “Eat Your Trash.” In it, she discusses the re-issue of Deborah Peterson’s Don’t Throw It, Grow It! 59 Windowsill Plants from Kitchen Scraps. To quote Amy: “There’s hardly a scrap of produce on your cutting board that can’t be given a second life, according to the authors. Carrot tops, garbanzo beans, peanuts, jicama, lemongrass, ginger – they can all be made to grow again. Spices and nuts can be sprouted as seeds, fruits and vegetables will grow from cuttings, and beans and peas will turn into climbing vines in a jiffy.”
You mean I can be recycling my carrots, too?
Of course, a lot of plants won’t produce here. Too much wind, not enough heat days. Rules out the possibility of ginger or lemongrass (both of which I like to cook with). And I think I read that growing beans is tricky. But maybe I can let some of my peas go all the way to seed, and then start new plants from them. (Duh – isn’t this the basis of seed saving? It’s a good thing I’m not dependent on my gardening to feed me. There’s so much I don’t know!)
What have you had success at re-growing?
12 June 2008
Redwoods and Rivers
I first lusted after the Trinity river 10 years ago, when traveling around the country, trying to decide where I wanted to spend my life. Driving along Highway 299, I looked up at the redwoods and firs and pines on the hills banking the river, then gazed down at the clear water and the run-able rapids, and thought, “I want in that water! Maybe I can get a job cooking for a river-running outfit.”
And then, Fourth of July weekend, 1999, I met the river-running outfit that would take me down the Trinity – as well as the Klamath, and the Rogue, and the Smith, and a bit of the Salmon. Michael Charlton, owner (with his wife, Wanda) of Redwoods and Rivers Rafting, had a booth at the Arcata Fourth of July festival. I signed up for a trip then and there.
My maiden voyage with Michael was the Pigeon Point run down the Trinity. I was so impressed by Michael (who has become a good friend over the years) that I refuse to even consider rafting with anyone else.
Why impressed? To begin with, I always feel safe. Rapids are fun, but I don’t run them for the thrill. I raft for the beauty and serenity of being on the water – for the mergansers with their ducklings scurrying upstream, the bald eagle swooping in for a fish and then carrying it back to the trees to eat, the endless Vs of green mountains when I look back upstream, the turtles basking on sun-baked rocks, the smell of white water. Michael and his guides (he runs a guide-training school, too) understand the beauty, are environmentally responsible, and are informative naturalists. They’re also gracious – rafting guests are always well fed and cared for.
Tuesday we spent a couple of hours on the Trinity. The water was running at about 2800 cfs (cubic feet per second). Shane, our guide, explained the flow as standing on the bank, looking across the river, and watching 2800 basketballs go by EACH SECOND. That’s a lot of basketballs. The powers that be are currently releasing enough water to keep the flow high; they are trying to mimic the natural spring flush of an undammed river. (For an interesting editorial on the politics of dammed rivers and diverting water to central and southern California for agricultural purposes – in this case, cotton – and the more sensible idea of keeping the water in the rivers so that they can heal – and even thrive! – see My Word by Aldaron Laird in the Times-Standard.)
I like Laird’s idea: “Perhaps the water in the Trinity should be used to recover and raise a bountiful crop of salmon on the North Coast, not cotton in the Westlands desert.” I’ve never quite understood the logic of perpetuating an economy that doesn’t fit its environment, such as raising water-dependent crops in areas that require importing water. Seems we’d all be better off if we work with what’s naturally available.
Which brings me to Michael and Wanda’s home. They purchased a number of acres along the Trinity, in Del Loma, a few years back. After rafting, Ronnie and I went back to their place for lunch, and to stay the night. I couldn’t get over how Wanda’s been landscaping the property! She’s collected river stones and built gardens everywhere: whimsical rock gardens studded with blue glass bottles and random objects; a small lawn bordered by a short rock wall and giant lavender bushes; and numerous rock-bordered flower gardens, one with a windmill. The tomato “cages” in the veggie garden are a cross-hatch of madrone branches, and the beans’ tipi is made of five long madrone limbs held together at the top with a rusted metal ring notched into them. Everything is made from resources found there on the property, or from scavenged items (“found art”).
Best of all, though, is Wanda’s version of a hammock. She’s hung a couple of old iron bed frames from the sturdy branches of yet another madrone, and thrown mattresses on them. We spent the night rocked to sleep beneath the madrone leaves, and woke in the early morning (thank you, Mr. rooster!) to the cheap-cheap-cheap of baby robins in their nest – almost directly above our bed – being fed by their robin parents.
And then, Fourth of July weekend, 1999, I met the river-running outfit that would take me down the Trinity – as well as the Klamath, and the Rogue, and the Smith, and a bit of the Salmon. Michael Charlton, owner (with his wife, Wanda) of Redwoods and Rivers Rafting, had a booth at the Arcata Fourth of July festival. I signed up for a trip then and there.
My maiden voyage with Michael was the Pigeon Point run down the Trinity. I was so impressed by Michael (who has become a good friend over the years) that I refuse to even consider rafting with anyone else.
Why impressed? To begin with, I always feel safe. Rapids are fun, but I don’t run them for the thrill. I raft for the beauty and serenity of being on the water – for the mergansers with their ducklings scurrying upstream, the bald eagle swooping in for a fish and then carrying it back to the trees to eat, the endless Vs of green mountains when I look back upstream, the turtles basking on sun-baked rocks, the smell of white water. Michael and his guides (he runs a guide-training school, too) understand the beauty, are environmentally responsible, and are informative naturalists. They’re also gracious – rafting guests are always well fed and cared for.
Tuesday we spent a couple of hours on the Trinity. The water was running at about 2800 cfs (cubic feet per second). Shane, our guide, explained the flow as standing on the bank, looking across the river, and watching 2800 basketballs go by EACH SECOND. That’s a lot of basketballs. The powers that be are currently releasing enough water to keep the flow high; they are trying to mimic the natural spring flush of an undammed river. (For an interesting editorial on the politics of dammed rivers and diverting water to central and southern California for agricultural purposes – in this case, cotton – and the more sensible idea of keeping the water in the rivers so that they can heal – and even thrive! – see My Word by Aldaron Laird in the Times-Standard.)
I like Laird’s idea: “Perhaps the water in the Trinity should be used to recover and raise a bountiful crop of salmon on the North Coast, not cotton in the Westlands desert.” I’ve never quite understood the logic of perpetuating an economy that doesn’t fit its environment, such as raising water-dependent crops in areas that require importing water. Seems we’d all be better off if we work with what’s naturally available.
Which brings me to Michael and Wanda’s home. They purchased a number of acres along the Trinity, in Del Loma, a few years back. After rafting, Ronnie and I went back to their place for lunch, and to stay the night. I couldn’t get over how Wanda’s been landscaping the property! She’s collected river stones and built gardens everywhere: whimsical rock gardens studded with blue glass bottles and random objects; a small lawn bordered by a short rock wall and giant lavender bushes; and numerous rock-bordered flower gardens, one with a windmill. The tomato “cages” in the veggie garden are a cross-hatch of madrone branches, and the beans’ tipi is made of five long madrone limbs held together at the top with a rusted metal ring notched into them. Everything is made from resources found there on the property, or from scavenged items (“found art”).
Best of all, though, is Wanda’s version of a hammock. She’s hung a couple of old iron bed frames from the sturdy branches of yet another madrone, and thrown mattresses on them. We spent the night rocked to sleep beneath the madrone leaves, and woke in the early morning (thank you, Mr. rooster!) to the cheap-cheap-cheap of baby robins in their nest – almost directly above our bed – being fed by their robin parents.
10 March 2008
Fog Remembers the Redwoods (a poem)
A friend and I were discussing the weather, how it is so much foggier at his house, which is a mere dozen miles from mine. Explaining that the fog moves up his river valley, he said that "the fog remembers the redwoods." Struck by the lyricism of this image, I wrote the following poem.
Fog remembers the redwoods,
Early morning whispers,
Quiet conversations, caresses
Soft and slow;
Remembers drifting up river to
Nestle into strong arms,
Moisten dark earth, murmur secrets
hushed and low;
Remembers draping muted stillness
Around ancient shoulders.
Fog remembers the redwoods,
Misses the trees,
Still drifts silently along the river
Sighing, seeking repose.
Fog remembers the redwoods,
Early morning whispers,
Quiet conversations, caresses
Soft and slow;
Remembers drifting up river to
Nestle into strong arms,
Moisten dark earth, murmur secrets
hushed and low;
Remembers draping muted stillness
Around ancient shoulders.
Fog remembers the redwoods,
Misses the trees,
Still drifts silently along the river
Sighing, seeking repose.
09 March 2008
A few of my favorite songs
I guess most people just put these on their I-Pods, but I’m technologically behind the times (on purpose). No I-Pod in my life, so nothing I can hand over to a friend and say here, these are the tunes that rock my world. Instead, I’m writing them down here, in case you have any interest in which songs remain my favorites over the years (listed by the artist whose version I prefer). I’m sure I’ve forgotten some, but this is a start.
??? – Eli, Eli
Allman Brothers -- Stormy Monday
Blood Sweat & Tears – Spinning Wheel
David Bromberg – Will Not Be Your Fool
David Allan Coe – You Never Even Called Me By My Name
Crosby Stills Nash & Young – Wooden Ships
Dan Hicks – I Scare Myself
Chris Isaak – Wicked Game
John Mayall – California
Odetta – If I Had Wings
Bonnie Raitt – Angel from Montgomery
Pete Seeger – Oh Healing River
Pete Seeger – Masters of War (Dylan’s)
Nina Simone – Sinnerman
Nina Simone – Pirate Jenny’s Song (from Three Penny Opera)
Rolling Stones – Sympathy for the Devil
Rolling Stones – You Can’t Always Get What You Want
Talking Heads – Take Me To The River
James Taylor – Fire and Rain
Marshall Tucker – Can’t You See
Van Morrison – Moon Dance
Tom Waits – Nighthawks At The Diner
Kate Wolf – Golden Rolling Hills of California
What are some of your all-time favorites?
??? – Eli, Eli
Allman Brothers -- Stormy Monday
Blood Sweat & Tears – Spinning Wheel
David Bromberg – Will Not Be Your Fool
David Allan Coe – You Never Even Called Me By My Name
Crosby Stills Nash & Young – Wooden Ships
Dan Hicks – I Scare Myself
Chris Isaak – Wicked Game
John Mayall – California
Odetta – If I Had Wings
Bonnie Raitt – Angel from Montgomery
Pete Seeger – Oh Healing River
Pete Seeger – Masters of War (Dylan’s)
Nina Simone – Sinnerman
Nina Simone – Pirate Jenny’s Song (from Three Penny Opera)
Rolling Stones – Sympathy for the Devil
Rolling Stones – You Can’t Always Get What You Want
Talking Heads – Take Me To The River
James Taylor – Fire and Rain
Marshall Tucker – Can’t You See
Van Morrison – Moon Dance
Tom Waits – Nighthawks At The Diner
Kate Wolf – Golden Rolling Hills of California
What are some of your all-time favorites?
08 March 2008
My brain on Insomnia
It’s 4:30 in the morning, and I’m awake – again.
What do you think about at 4:30 in the morning?
My mind was floating over snippets of a fascinating book I’ve started reading, A General Theory of Love. In it, the authors were explaining the triune brain – the reptilian (what I call lizard brain), the limbic, and the neocortical, each with its different spheres of responsibility.
The authors explain that the limbic brain “collects sensory information, filters it for emotional relevance, and sends outputs to other brain areas thousands of times a day. … Human beings are immersed in a sea of social interchange, surrounded by a subtle communications network that most do not notice. The limbic brain is our internal cryptographic device, allowing us to decipher a flood of complex messages in an instant.” They then went on to describe a young man whose limbic system was malfunctioning, noting that he “didn’t acquire social conventions naturally; even with monumental effort they persistently eluded him. … Emotional signals remained obscure hieroglyphics to him.”
As I’m reading along the description of this young man, I’m thinking: Asperger’s. And, when I turn the page, sure enough, there’s the diagnosis. Aha! I think. So, Asperger’s is related to a weak link in the limbic system.
Back to 4:30 this morning. I’m rethinking this Aha!, and recalling a conversation I had about a client scenario (the clients remained anonymous – only the situation was discussed). My colleague is setting the stage, explaining that both parents are very bright engineers, and my mind jumps ahead to: the kid has Asperger’s. Yep, sure enough, that’s where the story goes. And then I remember an article I read a few years ago (maybe from The New Yorker?) about Asperger’s, and how it’s called the geek syndrome because it’s showing up noticeably among children where both parents are engineers, and maybe the increase is somehow related to more smart women pursuing careers and meeting smart men, who wind up combining their smart genes…
And then I have a 4:30 a.m. Aha! and get up to share it with whoever is actually reading my ramblings. The engineers aspect of Asperger’s is significant. Because doesn’t engineering (and other “geek”) smarts reside in the neocortical brain – the analytical, logical, sequential, executive-function brain? So Asperger’s must be related to an imbalance in the checks and balance system of the brain – too much power in the executive branch, not enough in the emotional.
(Okay, my brain just linked to our governmental system and current politics. Would it be accurate to say that our country is out of whack because too much power has been taken by the executive branch, while the congressional and judicial – which would they be? Limbic? Reptilian? – has been weakened and isn’t functioning properly? Oy, the ramblings of insomnia…)
Anyway, back to Asperger’s and on to ADD. In her latest email, Jennifer Koretsky, author of Odd One Out: The Maverick’s Guide to Adult ADD (see the articles section of my web site for a review), listed ten great things about ADD. These included compassion, creativity, a sense of humor and comedic flair, and intuition. (Why I love my ADD clients!) Notice that these traits all belong to the limbic realm. And ADD has been shown to be a weakness in the pre-frontal cortex. So again, we have a shift in balance between two parts of the brain. (The lizard brain is staying out of the power struggle, plugging along with basic operating procedures and survival, letting the newcomers hash it out.)
I don’t have any conclusions here; I’m simply sharing my realizations as they appear. The last piece I realized while reading A General Theory of Love is that my own intelligence is strongest in the limbic area. (Coming from a family that values neocortical intelligence, I’ve historically struggled with feeling less intelligent, not valuing my intelligence.) People expect me to be logical and analytical because I’m an organizer (and hell, I’m a Virgo). But I work very intuitively and on an emotional level with my clients. I also am able to know something – to “read” a person or situation – in an instant. (This was an on-going disagreement I had with Anthony. He refused to believe that I could do this and thought I was being judgmental. But if you read Blink, you’ll learn that our brains can and do work that quickly.) Anyway, I realized that my strength is in my limbic brain.
So, I’d love to hear your thoughts… Leave a comment?
What do you think about at 4:30 in the morning?
My mind was floating over snippets of a fascinating book I’ve started reading, A General Theory of Love. In it, the authors were explaining the triune brain – the reptilian (what I call lizard brain), the limbic, and the neocortical, each with its different spheres of responsibility.
The authors explain that the limbic brain “collects sensory information, filters it for emotional relevance, and sends outputs to other brain areas thousands of times a day. … Human beings are immersed in a sea of social interchange, surrounded by a subtle communications network that most do not notice. The limbic brain is our internal cryptographic device, allowing us to decipher a flood of complex messages in an instant.” They then went on to describe a young man whose limbic system was malfunctioning, noting that he “didn’t acquire social conventions naturally; even with monumental effort they persistently eluded him. … Emotional signals remained obscure hieroglyphics to him.”
As I’m reading along the description of this young man, I’m thinking: Asperger’s. And, when I turn the page, sure enough, there’s the diagnosis. Aha! I think. So, Asperger’s is related to a weak link in the limbic system.
Back to 4:30 this morning. I’m rethinking this Aha!, and recalling a conversation I had about a client scenario (the clients remained anonymous – only the situation was discussed). My colleague is setting the stage, explaining that both parents are very bright engineers, and my mind jumps ahead to: the kid has Asperger’s. Yep, sure enough, that’s where the story goes. And then I remember an article I read a few years ago (maybe from The New Yorker?) about Asperger’s, and how it’s called the geek syndrome because it’s showing up noticeably among children where both parents are engineers, and maybe the increase is somehow related to more smart women pursuing careers and meeting smart men, who wind up combining their smart genes…
And then I have a 4:30 a.m. Aha! and get up to share it with whoever is actually reading my ramblings. The engineers aspect of Asperger’s is significant. Because doesn’t engineering (and other “geek”) smarts reside in the neocortical brain – the analytical, logical, sequential, executive-function brain? So Asperger’s must be related to an imbalance in the checks and balance system of the brain – too much power in the executive branch, not enough in the emotional.
(Okay, my brain just linked to our governmental system and current politics. Would it be accurate to say that our country is out of whack because too much power has been taken by the executive branch, while the congressional and judicial – which would they be? Limbic? Reptilian? – has been weakened and isn’t functioning properly? Oy, the ramblings of insomnia…)
Anyway, back to Asperger’s and on to ADD. In her latest email, Jennifer Koretsky, author of Odd One Out: The Maverick’s Guide to Adult ADD (see the articles section of my web site for a review), listed ten great things about ADD. These included compassion, creativity, a sense of humor and comedic flair, and intuition. (Why I love my ADD clients!) Notice that these traits all belong to the limbic realm. And ADD has been shown to be a weakness in the pre-frontal cortex. So again, we have a shift in balance between two parts of the brain. (The lizard brain is staying out of the power struggle, plugging along with basic operating procedures and survival, letting the newcomers hash it out.)
I don’t have any conclusions here; I’m simply sharing my realizations as they appear. The last piece I realized while reading A General Theory of Love is that my own intelligence is strongest in the limbic area. (Coming from a family that values neocortical intelligence, I’ve historically struggled with feeling less intelligent, not valuing my intelligence.) People expect me to be logical and analytical because I’m an organizer (and hell, I’m a Virgo). But I work very intuitively and on an emotional level with my clients. I also am able to know something – to “read” a person or situation – in an instant. (This was an on-going disagreement I had with Anthony. He refused to believe that I could do this and thought I was being judgmental. But if you read Blink, you’ll learn that our brains can and do work that quickly.) Anyway, I realized that my strength is in my limbic brain.
So, I’d love to hear your thoughts… Leave a comment?
28 February 2008
An Interview
The following interview by Geoff Rotunno was featured at www.thebooxreview.com a couple of years ago. It is no longer available at that web site, so I am republishing it here.
Personal chaos got you down? Step into our parlor, the online room of one utterly organized Boox Interview with author and professional organizer Claire Josefine, who spends some time explaining the hows and whys of instructing others in the spiritual art of acquiring order.
Boox: Our initial take on The Spiritual Art of Being Organized was that it is a book that is completely right for the times. Assuming you agree, why would you say that is so?
Josefine: Given the response to the book that I've been receiving, I'd have to agree with you.
Spirituality and getting organized are both popular topics these days. But I believe The Spiritual Art of Being Organized speaks to a deeper need than current trends. Many of us, especially those who embrace the values of Voluntary Simplicity, are struggling to restore balance, connectedness, and meaning to our lives.
Let me elaborate. We live in a culture that emphasizes acquisition and immediate gratification. Good consumers that we are, we mindlessly accumulate possessions (and rack up debt). Meanwhile, it often takes two incomes to support a household these days. We're working more and accumulating more. Which means we have less time and more stuff taking up our time and space. Is it any wonder that we wake up one day to find our homes crowded with meaningless clutter and our lives unsatisfying? As Ken Blanchard says, "too many of us are spending money we haven't earned to buy things we don't need to impress people we don't like."
So here we are, working too much to support too much stuff. And watching television to numb our minds. But wait! Look! Check out these TV shows where people are totally disorganized and an organizer comes in and fixes it all for them. Talk about immediate gratification! Wouldn't it be nice if we could hire a professional organizer to play Mom, to come in and clean our room for us, make it all better — just like on TV?
Except it wouldn't work. Professional organizers are invaluable — they teach us how to organize; they provide support and encouragement and a helping hand. But the allure of having someone else come in to perform a clean sweep through our homes is just another version of our desire for immediate gratification, which is largely responsible for our mindless accumulation of clutter in the first place. Unless we shift our behavior and beliefs — which includes suspending gratification while we make conscious decisions based on our values and goals — we will simply re-create the clutter we've just purged. As I say in the book, chaos is conquered as much by awareness, gratitude, grounding, and breath as by a well-labeled filing system. Simplicity and order are valid — even crucial — choices. And they are found within.
Boox: But in a culture that does place so much emphasis on acquisition and immediate gratification, how do we make that shift? Do you talk about that concept during your consultations?
Josefine: Not everyone is going to — or even wants to — make that shift. I have clients who will continue to conspicuously consume, and there's not much I can do about it. Yes, I can point out the physical limits of their space and ask them how many, say, tablecloths, they need. And I can encourage them to let go of their excess, to share it with those who truly need coats or bedding or tablecloths. But I can't force them to change their buying habits, to delay their desire for immediate gratification. I can't force them to have a spiritual awakening, an "aha!" moment.
On the other hand, some of my clients have had that "aha!" moment where they wake up and say, "Wait, this is all wrong. What am I doing with all this stuff? Where's the balance in my life?" With these clients, yes, absolutely, I talk about making the shift. These are the clients (and readers) who thirstily drink up the 12 Basic Principles of Being Organized, because the Principles provide the tools we need to simplify and organize our lives.
How do we make that shift? We begin by simplifying our lives. We learn to set boundaries, to make choices based in love instead of fear, that we are able to make choices. We learn to practice gratitude, which guides us to realizing how blessedly abundant our lives are. We slow down, pay attention to our actions, bring consciousness back into our daily lives. We bring a structural foundation of order and organization into our lives. And we learn to ask for — and receive — help.
Boox: Of the benefits you list under your "Why Get Organized?" section, you state one good reason for attaining order is "to make money." How can getting organized lead to income?
Josefine: I'm thinking of a client of mine who writes and teaches for a living. We organized all her newspaper clippings and her computer document files for the book she is currently writing. We also created a schedule, carving out specific, regular hours for writing. (Because she works at home, she was having trouble creating a routine and setting boundaries with her time.) These organizational improvements enabled her to find information quickly (instead of taking hours to hunt for it), and helped her to complete her manuscript on time (which allowed her to collect the first part of her advance on the book). It also freed up time for her to work on income-generating projects such as workshops, lectures, and fund-raising.
Perhaps another way to look at this benefit is to see how being organized helps you avoid losing money. Let's look at a hypothetical independent consultant who's disorganized. Her disorganization can result in lost income because she forgets to invoice her clients (or follow up on collections), because she is unable to access information quickly enough to provide a timely and acceptable bid for a job, or because clients perceive her as unreliable and are reticent to trust her.
Becoming organized can remedy these pitfalls, can remove obstacles to making money. We spend less time looking for our tools, can put our hands on information more quickly, and can provide the desired product more promptly. The better organized we are, the more productive. And the more productive we are, the more we are profitable.
Boox: In your chapter called "Think!" you talk about how we seem to have a knack for sprawling horizontally rather than employing vertical solutions for our excess. Any idea why we default to the more scattered of the two?
Josefine: I think that horizontal sprawl becomes the default for two reasons. One is a lack of boundaries. The other is our innate laziness. Picture a bowl of water, but without the bowl, how it spreads outward along the available surface. When we're setting down pieces of paper (for instance) we're likely to behave like that water, spreading the papers out along an available surface. To store them vertically — in file folders or wall pockets, for example — requires work. If the vertical containers are already in place, and they are easy to access, then we are likely to use them. But because installing the vertical containers requires effort, it is not our natural — or default — solution.
Boox: What is the most common of all the states of client disorder you see upon initial consultation?
Josefine: There are two common problems. The first is a lack of clearly defined zones. A kitchen cabinet might have canned food, coffee cups, and kids' schoolwork all shoved in willy-nilly. Or a dresser drawer might have underwear jumbled up with socks, blue jeans, loose aspirin, unpaid bills, orphaned earrings, and bandages.
The second common problem involves the bane of our modern-day existence: paper! Many of us have not been taught how to handle the barrage of paper that enters our life. As a result, it invades every surface of our home, and maybe even our car. Piles of old mail, unread magazines, unpaid bills, paid bills, invitations, advertisements, notices, newspapers... On the kitchen table. The kitchen counter. The table by the entrance. The desk. The shelves. The dresser. The bathroom counter. The bed. The floor. Paper everywhere, except where we can find it!
By the way, I don't subscribe to the "handle paper only once" school. Expecting immediate and full action to be taken on every piece of paper each time is unreasonable. Yes, we want to make an initial assessment of the paper when we pick it up, rather than shuffle it from one pile to another. But I prefer the "all paper is F.A.T. — File, Act, or Toss" philosophy. By asking ourselves why we are keeping the paper, how we plan to use it, we can determine where to put the paper. If we are keeping it only for reference or legal documentation, it can be filed. If we need to act on it, we put it in the action file (to pay, to answer, to review, etc.). If we don't need to keep it, by all means, toss it! (Well, recycle it. But saying that all paper is F.A.R. doesn't have the same mnemonic appeal.)
Boox: What sort of feedback do you hear most often from clients who have embraced your techniques and discovered a holy state of order in their lives?
Josefine: I'm not sure any of my clients have ever discovered a "holy state of order." But they certainly have experienced marked improvement in their lives.
The most common feedback is an expression of gratitude for the help they've received and the hope they now have. Where they used to feel inept and ashamed, they now feel empowered. They understand how to organize, they experience the value of being organized, and they see how their spirituality supports being organized.
I received an amazing letter from a reader not long ago. She had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer, and was faced with not wanting to leave her 3600-square-foot home filled with 35 years of collecting for her family to deal with. She happened upon my book, and was transformed. She wrote to me: "You accomplished the impossible. You see, I have always detested neat, highly organized people. They are not like me. They made me feel faulty, inadequate, guilty, and so I pronounced them without creativity, spontaneity, or passion. But, from what I could learn about you from your writing, I began to like you, a person who alphabetizes spice bottles! This amazed me. ... I would not have been reached by a simple list of handy hints for organizing. What you had to reach was my deepest being, and you had to convince me to like you and trust you before I listened to you. That there was something in neat, organized, spice-jar-alphabetizing you that connected on a deep spiritual level with messy, chaotic me opened my mind. ... Thanks to your extraordinary book, the best imperfect person I can be has begun."
Boox: That's some terrific and immediately gratifying feedback! Do you find that you are consciously attempting to reach clients at more than the usual business relationship level, or is that just a good thing when it happens on its own?
Josefine: I don't try to reach clients on a more personal level; it's just who I am. I'm friendly and open and honest, and my clients tend to open up and trust me. (In turn, I honor their trust by keeping their identities confidential.)
Also, organizing is very intimate work. As an organizer, I can't help but see my clients' secrets, be it their bankruptcy papers or their cross-dressing wardrobe. And, as an organizer, I'm very accepting of the secrets I find. I think this vulnerability, coupled with my easy-going acceptance, facilitates a personal bond.
You know, I resisted writing this book; at first I was going to have a friend ghost-write it for me. But I realized that the book had to be in my own voice, so I hired the friend to coach me, to hold my hand through the process. Now I find that it's my voice that reaches the readers. When I showed the above-mentioned letter to a friend, she commented that several of her colleagues read the book as a way of spending time with me — and they've never met me in person. This amazes me, that I'm able to reach people on a personal level, that they come to like me and want to spend time with me, through my writing. And through a book on organizing. Who woulda thunk?
Boox: Which of your 12 principles do people typically have trouble with the most, and why?
Josefine: Hmmm.... No one's ever told me that they're having trouble with one principle or another, so I'm not sure! My guess would be, based on observation, that implementing new habits and routines is most difficult. (I know it's hard for me.) When I asked a couple of friends, they quickly and unanimously replied that K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple, Sweetie) was hardest, which surprised me, because that one comes so easily for me. But then, being innately organized, perhaps it makes sense that my sticking points differ from those of my clients.
I'm guessing that different principles are challenging for different people. An AD/HD client might have trouble with K.I.S.S. or Be Realistic — or with Slow Down and Pay Attention — while another client might have trouble with Ask for Help. It's going to depend on the person. Which one do you find most challenging?
Boox: Asking for help has always been a personal challenge as well, so it does seem to depend on who you are. Why do you ask your clients, "What brings you joy?" Are there any other questions that you regularly pose?
Josefine: I believe that each of us has gifts to offer, talents to share that make the world a better place. And I believe we each have a duty to share those talents, to do the work of Tikkun Olam — a Kabbalistic concept that means Repair of the World.
Now, some of us know what our gifts are and plunge right in, doing our work. Others of us are unsure. (It took me until my late 30's to figure out what my gifts were.) I ask people "what brings you joy?" because — I believe — this is where we connect with our higher power, our Source. This is how we discover our path. I have a quote from Buddha by my desk: "Your work is to discover your work and then with all your heart to give yourself to it." Discovering what brings us joy leads us to discovering our work, which leads us to doing the work of Tikkun Olam.
Identifying our sources of joy also helps us clarify our values and goals, which helps us winnow out those items and commitments that detract us from our path.
As to other questions that I regularly pose... of course there are others! I'm a teacher at heart, and teachers ask questions. Besides, questions are a wonderful tool for finding answers. Probably my two most common sets of questions are: "Why are you keeping it? How do you plan to use it?" and "Do you like it? Does it make you smile?" And then there's the ever-pragmatic "Where will you put it?" ("I don't know" is not an acceptable answer.)
Personal chaos got you down? Step into our parlor, the online room of one utterly organized Boox Interview with author and professional organizer Claire Josefine, who spends some time explaining the hows and whys of instructing others in the spiritual art of acquiring order.
Boox: Our initial take on The Spiritual Art of Being Organized was that it is a book that is completely right for the times. Assuming you agree, why would you say that is so?
Josefine: Given the response to the book that I've been receiving, I'd have to agree with you.
Spirituality and getting organized are both popular topics these days. But I believe The Spiritual Art of Being Organized speaks to a deeper need than current trends. Many of us, especially those who embrace the values of Voluntary Simplicity, are struggling to restore balance, connectedness, and meaning to our lives.
Let me elaborate. We live in a culture that emphasizes acquisition and immediate gratification. Good consumers that we are, we mindlessly accumulate possessions (and rack up debt). Meanwhile, it often takes two incomes to support a household these days. We're working more and accumulating more. Which means we have less time and more stuff taking up our time and space. Is it any wonder that we wake up one day to find our homes crowded with meaningless clutter and our lives unsatisfying? As Ken Blanchard says, "too many of us are spending money we haven't earned to buy things we don't need to impress people we don't like."
So here we are, working too much to support too much stuff. And watching television to numb our minds. But wait! Look! Check out these TV shows where people are totally disorganized and an organizer comes in and fixes it all for them. Talk about immediate gratification! Wouldn't it be nice if we could hire a professional organizer to play Mom, to come in and clean our room for us, make it all better — just like on TV?
Except it wouldn't work. Professional organizers are invaluable — they teach us how to organize; they provide support and encouragement and a helping hand. But the allure of having someone else come in to perform a clean sweep through our homes is just another version of our desire for immediate gratification, which is largely responsible for our mindless accumulation of clutter in the first place. Unless we shift our behavior and beliefs — which includes suspending gratification while we make conscious decisions based on our values and goals — we will simply re-create the clutter we've just purged. As I say in the book, chaos is conquered as much by awareness, gratitude, grounding, and breath as by a well-labeled filing system. Simplicity and order are valid — even crucial — choices. And they are found within.
Boox: But in a culture that does place so much emphasis on acquisition and immediate gratification, how do we make that shift? Do you talk about that concept during your consultations?
Josefine: Not everyone is going to — or even wants to — make that shift. I have clients who will continue to conspicuously consume, and there's not much I can do about it. Yes, I can point out the physical limits of their space and ask them how many, say, tablecloths, they need. And I can encourage them to let go of their excess, to share it with those who truly need coats or bedding or tablecloths. But I can't force them to change their buying habits, to delay their desire for immediate gratification. I can't force them to have a spiritual awakening, an "aha!" moment.
On the other hand, some of my clients have had that "aha!" moment where they wake up and say, "Wait, this is all wrong. What am I doing with all this stuff? Where's the balance in my life?" With these clients, yes, absolutely, I talk about making the shift. These are the clients (and readers) who thirstily drink up the 12 Basic Principles of Being Organized, because the Principles provide the tools we need to simplify and organize our lives.
How do we make that shift? We begin by simplifying our lives. We learn to set boundaries, to make choices based in love instead of fear, that we are able to make choices. We learn to practice gratitude, which guides us to realizing how blessedly abundant our lives are. We slow down, pay attention to our actions, bring consciousness back into our daily lives. We bring a structural foundation of order and organization into our lives. And we learn to ask for — and receive — help.
Boox: Of the benefits you list under your "Why Get Organized?" section, you state one good reason for attaining order is "to make money." How can getting organized lead to income?
Josefine: I'm thinking of a client of mine who writes and teaches for a living. We organized all her newspaper clippings and her computer document files for the book she is currently writing. We also created a schedule, carving out specific, regular hours for writing. (Because she works at home, she was having trouble creating a routine and setting boundaries with her time.) These organizational improvements enabled her to find information quickly (instead of taking hours to hunt for it), and helped her to complete her manuscript on time (which allowed her to collect the first part of her advance on the book). It also freed up time for her to work on income-generating projects such as workshops, lectures, and fund-raising.
Perhaps another way to look at this benefit is to see how being organized helps you avoid losing money. Let's look at a hypothetical independent consultant who's disorganized. Her disorganization can result in lost income because she forgets to invoice her clients (or follow up on collections), because she is unable to access information quickly enough to provide a timely and acceptable bid for a job, or because clients perceive her as unreliable and are reticent to trust her.
Becoming organized can remedy these pitfalls, can remove obstacles to making money. We spend less time looking for our tools, can put our hands on information more quickly, and can provide the desired product more promptly. The better organized we are, the more productive. And the more productive we are, the more we are profitable.
Boox: In your chapter called "Think!" you talk about how we seem to have a knack for sprawling horizontally rather than employing vertical solutions for our excess. Any idea why we default to the more scattered of the two?
Josefine: I think that horizontal sprawl becomes the default for two reasons. One is a lack of boundaries. The other is our innate laziness. Picture a bowl of water, but without the bowl, how it spreads outward along the available surface. When we're setting down pieces of paper (for instance) we're likely to behave like that water, spreading the papers out along an available surface. To store them vertically — in file folders or wall pockets, for example — requires work. If the vertical containers are already in place, and they are easy to access, then we are likely to use them. But because installing the vertical containers requires effort, it is not our natural — or default — solution.
Boox: What is the most common of all the states of client disorder you see upon initial consultation?
Josefine: There are two common problems. The first is a lack of clearly defined zones. A kitchen cabinet might have canned food, coffee cups, and kids' schoolwork all shoved in willy-nilly. Or a dresser drawer might have underwear jumbled up with socks, blue jeans, loose aspirin, unpaid bills, orphaned earrings, and bandages.
The second common problem involves the bane of our modern-day existence: paper! Many of us have not been taught how to handle the barrage of paper that enters our life. As a result, it invades every surface of our home, and maybe even our car. Piles of old mail, unread magazines, unpaid bills, paid bills, invitations, advertisements, notices, newspapers... On the kitchen table. The kitchen counter. The table by the entrance. The desk. The shelves. The dresser. The bathroom counter. The bed. The floor. Paper everywhere, except where we can find it!
By the way, I don't subscribe to the "handle paper only once" school. Expecting immediate and full action to be taken on every piece of paper each time is unreasonable. Yes, we want to make an initial assessment of the paper when we pick it up, rather than shuffle it from one pile to another. But I prefer the "all paper is F.A.T. — File, Act, or Toss" philosophy. By asking ourselves why we are keeping the paper, how we plan to use it, we can determine where to put the paper. If we are keeping it only for reference or legal documentation, it can be filed. If we need to act on it, we put it in the action file (to pay, to answer, to review, etc.). If we don't need to keep it, by all means, toss it! (Well, recycle it. But saying that all paper is F.A.R. doesn't have the same mnemonic appeal.)
Boox: What sort of feedback do you hear most often from clients who have embraced your techniques and discovered a holy state of order in their lives?
Josefine: I'm not sure any of my clients have ever discovered a "holy state of order." But they certainly have experienced marked improvement in their lives.
The most common feedback is an expression of gratitude for the help they've received and the hope they now have. Where they used to feel inept and ashamed, they now feel empowered. They understand how to organize, they experience the value of being organized, and they see how their spirituality supports being organized.
I received an amazing letter from a reader not long ago. She had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer, and was faced with not wanting to leave her 3600-square-foot home filled with 35 years of collecting for her family to deal with. She happened upon my book, and was transformed. She wrote to me: "You accomplished the impossible. You see, I have always detested neat, highly organized people. They are not like me. They made me feel faulty, inadequate, guilty, and so I pronounced them without creativity, spontaneity, or passion. But, from what I could learn about you from your writing, I began to like you, a person who alphabetizes spice bottles! This amazed me. ... I would not have been reached by a simple list of handy hints for organizing. What you had to reach was my deepest being, and you had to convince me to like you and trust you before I listened to you. That there was something in neat, organized, spice-jar-alphabetizing you that connected on a deep spiritual level with messy, chaotic me opened my mind. ... Thanks to your extraordinary book, the best imperfect person I can be has begun."
Boox: That's some terrific and immediately gratifying feedback! Do you find that you are consciously attempting to reach clients at more than the usual business relationship level, or is that just a good thing when it happens on its own?
Josefine: I don't try to reach clients on a more personal level; it's just who I am. I'm friendly and open and honest, and my clients tend to open up and trust me. (In turn, I honor their trust by keeping their identities confidential.)
Also, organizing is very intimate work. As an organizer, I can't help but see my clients' secrets, be it their bankruptcy papers or their cross-dressing wardrobe. And, as an organizer, I'm very accepting of the secrets I find. I think this vulnerability, coupled with my easy-going acceptance, facilitates a personal bond.
You know, I resisted writing this book; at first I was going to have a friend ghost-write it for me. But I realized that the book had to be in my own voice, so I hired the friend to coach me, to hold my hand through the process. Now I find that it's my voice that reaches the readers. When I showed the above-mentioned letter to a friend, she commented that several of her colleagues read the book as a way of spending time with me — and they've never met me in person. This amazes me, that I'm able to reach people on a personal level, that they come to like me and want to spend time with me, through my writing. And through a book on organizing. Who woulda thunk?
Boox: Which of your 12 principles do people typically have trouble with the most, and why?
Josefine: Hmmm.... No one's ever told me that they're having trouble with one principle or another, so I'm not sure! My guess would be, based on observation, that implementing new habits and routines is most difficult. (I know it's hard for me.) When I asked a couple of friends, they quickly and unanimously replied that K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple, Sweetie) was hardest, which surprised me, because that one comes so easily for me. But then, being innately organized, perhaps it makes sense that my sticking points differ from those of my clients.
I'm guessing that different principles are challenging for different people. An AD/HD client might have trouble with K.I.S.S. or Be Realistic — or with Slow Down and Pay Attention — while another client might have trouble with Ask for Help. It's going to depend on the person. Which one do you find most challenging?
Boox: Asking for help has always been a personal challenge as well, so it does seem to depend on who you are. Why do you ask your clients, "What brings you joy?" Are there any other questions that you regularly pose?
Josefine: I believe that each of us has gifts to offer, talents to share that make the world a better place. And I believe we each have a duty to share those talents, to do the work of Tikkun Olam — a Kabbalistic concept that means Repair of the World.
Now, some of us know what our gifts are and plunge right in, doing our work. Others of us are unsure. (It took me until my late 30's to figure out what my gifts were.) I ask people "what brings you joy?" because — I believe — this is where we connect with our higher power, our Source. This is how we discover our path. I have a quote from Buddha by my desk: "Your work is to discover your work and then with all your heart to give yourself to it." Discovering what brings us joy leads us to discovering our work, which leads us to doing the work of Tikkun Olam.
Identifying our sources of joy also helps us clarify our values and goals, which helps us winnow out those items and commitments that detract us from our path.
As to other questions that I regularly pose... of course there are others! I'm a teacher at heart, and teachers ask questions. Besides, questions are a wonderful tool for finding answers. Probably my two most common sets of questions are: "Why are you keeping it? How do you plan to use it?" and "Do you like it? Does it make you smile?" And then there's the ever-pragmatic "Where will you put it?" ("I don't know" is not an acceptable answer.)
04 February 2008
The Four-Pronged Fork of the Fifties
In response to my talk on Earth-Friendly Organizing, given at the Eureka Public Library last Thursday, one of the audience members sent the link for The Story of Stuff to me. About the same time, a fellow organizer posted the link to our Simple and Sustainable Organizers Yahoo! group. The video is making the rounds, and with good reason.
Watching The Story of Stuff, I was reminded of an article I wrote on consumerism. Here it is:
A Brief History of Consumerism
Once in a rare while, I'll venture into a K-Mart or Target or such, only to be astounded by the excess of consumer goods filling the shelves. (As an organizer, I find a plethora of these same goods cluttering people's homes.) Such material abundance didn't exist 100 years ago. So, what happened? How did we get here, to a world suffocating under so much stuff?
The stage was set during the industrial revolution, when our ability to produce goods magnified immensely. (The changes in production capacity brought up an interesting debate at the time: should we focus on producing more stuff, or on having more time? More stuff won.) Then came The Depression, when people shut down and held back, went into scarcity thinking. They pulled into themselves, tight like a scrunched-closed fist.
After WWII a number of things happened, encouraging people to sigh a collective "phew!" and open up into an expansive mode again. I call these phenomena The Four-Pronged Fork of the Fifties. It was this fork that fed our modern-era consumerism.
Prong #1 was government programs. The Highway Trust Fund financed the creation of our Interstate Highway System, which fueled the development of urban sprawl. In addition to passing through downtown areas -- which encouraged automobile-oriented development patterns -- the expanding cobweb of highways made for easier distribution of foods grown by centralized, mass-production farming. This freed up farmland for suburban sprawl and shopping malls.
FHA loans enabled people to buy those suburban houses. The G.I. Bill also helped people to purchase their starter homes. And all those houses, of course, needed to be fully equipped. As William Kowinski wrote in The Malling of America, "As they traded their ploughshares for power mowers, suburbanites created an ever-expanding market for consumer products. All those houses had their own kitchens and laundries, living rooms and dens, and typically a bedroom for each child. The suburban dream clearly included refrigerators and ranges, washers and dryers, plus all the detergents, polishes and other support and maintenance products.”
Prong #2 was the proliferation of television and advertising. Besides being a venue for advertising, television portrayed (and continues to portray) upper-middle class as normal, making us think that what the well-to-do have is what we should all be having and what's wrong with us that we don't? Meanwhile, advertising started using psychology to create both fear and desire in us, compounding our sense of inadequacy.
Prong #3 was personal debt. Suddenly, it became easy to borrow money. (What's that commercial? "Life takes Visa." Or is it that Visa takes life?) Meanwhile, in conjunction with the Cold War, government and industry began equating democracy with the freedom to purchase, recasting materialism as patriotic. (And President Bush, in response to 9/11, encouraged the country to go shopping. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.) Not long ago, if we didn't have the money, we didn't buy it. Now, if we want it -- and it's our patriotic duty to buy it! -- we just put it on the credit card.
Prong #4 was planned obsolescence. This has three faces to it. One is where producers intentionally build things to fall apart. After all, there are only so many toasters you can sell before everyone who needs one, has one. If you want to continue selling toasters, you better make them chintzy and irreparable. The second face of planned obsolescence takes its lead from the fashion industry, where things go out of style long before they cease being functional. Witness automobiles, furniture, kitchen decor, technology... . The third face is one of manufactured scarcity. Jim Sinegal, CEO of Costco, was quoted in the Wall Street Journal as saying, "We try to create an attitude that, if you see it, you ought to buy it because chances are it ain't going to be there next time. You're going to come in and find that maybe we have some Lucky jeans that we're selling. You come in the next time and we don't have those jeans but we have some Coach handbags. That's the treasure-hunt aspect. We constantly buy that stuff and intentionally run out of it from time to time."
The Four-Pronged Fork of the Fifties fed our culture to create the bloated, consumerist world in which we find ourselves today. But just because this is where we are doesn't mean we need to stay here. We are products of our culture, but we are not victims to it. We can choose to step out of mindless consumption and into simplicity. We can choose to live consciously, to take back our power and live in harmony with our values. We can choose to walk out of K-Mart and Target and such, empty handed. We can even choose not to walk in.
And how more simple can we get than baking our own bread? I cooked up a couple of loaves Sunday night, and thought I’d share the recipe.
Proof:
2 cups warm water
2 Tablespoons yeast
2 Tablespoons sugar
2 Tablespoons olive oil
Once it’s proofed, slowly work in:
2 Teaspoons salt
1 Cup whole wheat flour
½ Cup oat bran
4 to 5 Cups white flour
Knead until smooth and silky.
Coat with olive oil, cover, and allow to rise until doubled in bulk, between 2 and 3 hours.
Punch down, break in half and fit into two bread loaf pans.
Coat with olive oil again, cover, and allow to rise a second time (until they look load-size).
Bake at 375 until done. (Sorry, I didn’t notice how long this took.)
Remove from loaf pan and allow to cool.
Watching The Story of Stuff, I was reminded of an article I wrote on consumerism. Here it is:
A Brief History of Consumerism
Once in a rare while, I'll venture into a K-Mart or Target or such, only to be astounded by the excess of consumer goods filling the shelves. (As an organizer, I find a plethora of these same goods cluttering people's homes.) Such material abundance didn't exist 100 years ago. So, what happened? How did we get here, to a world suffocating under so much stuff?
The stage was set during the industrial revolution, when our ability to produce goods magnified immensely. (The changes in production capacity brought up an interesting debate at the time: should we focus on producing more stuff, or on having more time? More stuff won.) Then came The Depression, when people shut down and held back, went into scarcity thinking. They pulled into themselves, tight like a scrunched-closed fist.
After WWII a number of things happened, encouraging people to sigh a collective "phew!" and open up into an expansive mode again. I call these phenomena The Four-Pronged Fork of the Fifties. It was this fork that fed our modern-era consumerism.
Prong #1 was government programs. The Highway Trust Fund financed the creation of our Interstate Highway System, which fueled the development of urban sprawl. In addition to passing through downtown areas -- which encouraged automobile-oriented development patterns -- the expanding cobweb of highways made for easier distribution of foods grown by centralized, mass-production farming. This freed up farmland for suburban sprawl and shopping malls.
FHA loans enabled people to buy those suburban houses. The G.I. Bill also helped people to purchase their starter homes. And all those houses, of course, needed to be fully equipped. As William Kowinski wrote in The Malling of America, "As they traded their ploughshares for power mowers, suburbanites created an ever-expanding market for consumer products. All those houses had their own kitchens and laundries, living rooms and dens, and typically a bedroom for each child. The suburban dream clearly included refrigerators and ranges, washers and dryers, plus all the detergents, polishes and other support and maintenance products.”
Prong #2 was the proliferation of television and advertising. Besides being a venue for advertising, television portrayed (and continues to portray) upper-middle class as normal, making us think that what the well-to-do have is what we should all be having and what's wrong with us that we don't? Meanwhile, advertising started using psychology to create both fear and desire in us, compounding our sense of inadequacy.
Prong #3 was personal debt. Suddenly, it became easy to borrow money. (What's that commercial? "Life takes Visa." Or is it that Visa takes life?) Meanwhile, in conjunction with the Cold War, government and industry began equating democracy with the freedom to purchase, recasting materialism as patriotic. (And President Bush, in response to 9/11, encouraged the country to go shopping. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.) Not long ago, if we didn't have the money, we didn't buy it. Now, if we want it -- and it's our patriotic duty to buy it! -- we just put it on the credit card.
Prong #4 was planned obsolescence. This has three faces to it. One is where producers intentionally build things to fall apart. After all, there are only so many toasters you can sell before everyone who needs one, has one. If you want to continue selling toasters, you better make them chintzy and irreparable. The second face of planned obsolescence takes its lead from the fashion industry, where things go out of style long before they cease being functional. Witness automobiles, furniture, kitchen decor, technology... . The third face is one of manufactured scarcity. Jim Sinegal, CEO of Costco, was quoted in the Wall Street Journal as saying, "We try to create an attitude that, if you see it, you ought to buy it because chances are it ain't going to be there next time. You're going to come in and find that maybe we have some Lucky jeans that we're selling. You come in the next time and we don't have those jeans but we have some Coach handbags. That's the treasure-hunt aspect. We constantly buy that stuff and intentionally run out of it from time to time."
The Four-Pronged Fork of the Fifties fed our culture to create the bloated, consumerist world in which we find ourselves today. But just because this is where we are doesn't mean we need to stay here. We are products of our culture, but we are not victims to it. We can choose to step out of mindless consumption and into simplicity. We can choose to live consciously, to take back our power and live in harmony with our values. We can choose to walk out of K-Mart and Target and such, empty handed. We can even choose not to walk in.
And how more simple can we get than baking our own bread? I cooked up a couple of loaves Sunday night, and thought I’d share the recipe.
Proof:
2 cups warm water
2 Tablespoons yeast
2 Tablespoons sugar
2 Tablespoons olive oil
Once it’s proofed, slowly work in:
2 Teaspoons salt
1 Cup whole wheat flour
½ Cup oat bran
4 to 5 Cups white flour
Knead until smooth and silky.
Coat with olive oil, cover, and allow to rise until doubled in bulk, between 2 and 3 hours.
Punch down, break in half and fit into two bread loaf pans.
Coat with olive oil again, cover, and allow to rise a second time (until they look load-size).
Bake at 375 until done. (Sorry, I didn’t notice how long this took.)
Remove from loaf pan and allow to cool.
30 January 2008
Organizing by the Numbers: A Comparison of Principles
Since its inception in 1985, NAPO has exploded to almost 4,000 members and is still growing. A plethora of books on organizing has followed suit. I am fascinated by how each author finds a different approach to presenting the basic principles – or, in other cases, the basic process – of organizing. What follows is a comparative presentation of 15 different sets of principles. They are listed in order of the number of principles they put forth, ranging from 14 to 3. If you know of other books with different approaches, please e-mail the information to me at organized@humboldt1.com. Also, if you find this comparison valuable, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, Digg, or the social bookmark of your choice. Happy organizing!
Organizing Solutions for People with ADD
by Susan Pinsky
14 Rules of Organizing
1. Give everything a home.
2. Store things on the wall or a shelf, never on the floor.
3. Take advantage of vertical storage space.
4. Use hooks instead of hangers.
5. Don’t increase storage, reduce inventory.
6. Touch it only once (mail, laundry, etc).
7. If you haven’t touched it in a year, discard it.
8. Duplicate where necessary to store things where you use them.
9. Eliminate items that duplicate functions (electric and manual can opener, for example).
10. Arrange items in activity zones.
11. Don’t overcrowd your storage.
12. Easy to access and easy to put away.
13. Name your storage (sock drawer, dish cabinet).
14. Make sure “rough” storage (garage, basements etc.) are well lit and easily accessible.
The Spiritual Art of Being Organized
by Claire Josefine
12 Basic Principles of Being Organized
1. Think! Think vertical, think verbs, think function, think consequences.
2. Put like with like within zones created by function.
3. K.I.S.S. (Keep it simple, sweetie).
4. Create, and use, habits and schedules.
5. Be realistic.
6. Set boundaries.
7. Dishes before dusting.
8. Slow down and pay attention.
9. Adopt an attitude of gratitude.
10. Base decisions in love instead of fear.
11. Remember that we have choices.
12. Ask for help.
All You Really Need
by Jane Campbell
The Elements of Order
1. Own Less.
2. Give Stuff a Home.
3. Make it Pretty.
4. Categorize.
5. Handle Paper Centrally.
6. Store, Don't Obscure.
7. Files are Better than Piles.
8. Wean Yourself.
9. Travel with Care.
10. Be in Charge.
11. Respect the Earth (But).
12. Invest in a Professional.
The Spirit of Getting Organized:
12 Skills to Finding Meaning and Power in Your Stuff
by Pamela Kristan
12 Organizational Skills
Witness Skills develop a point-of-view
1. Observing gathers data
2. Acknowledging places value
Threshold Skills get us into and out of organizing
3. Beginning decides where to start
4. Ending disengages from the work
Shaping Skills intervene in the physical world
5. Sorting reveals order within the chaos
6. Staging set up an active area
7. Storing sets up archives and collections
8. Shedding identifies what you don’t need and moves it out
Option Skills open up or settle down possibilities
9. Imagining opens up options
10. Choosing settles down options
Skills to Carry On place organization in context
11. Sustaining renews the system
12. Engaging makes connections
The Fly Lady's
11 Commandments
1. Keep your sink clean and shiny.
2. Get dressed every morning, even if you don't feel like it. Don't forget your lace-up shoes.
3. Do your Morning Routine every morning, right when you get up. Do your Before Bed Routine every night.
4. Don't allow yourself to be sidetracked by the computer.
5. Pick up after yourself. If you get it out, put it away when you finish.
6. Don't try to do two projects at once. ONE JOB AT A TIME.
7. Don't pull out more then you can put back in one hour.
8. Do something for yourself every day, maybe every morning and night.
9. Work as fast as you can to get a job done. This will give you more time to play later.
10. Smile even when you don't feel like it. It is contagious. Make up your mind to be happy and you will be.
11. Don't forget to laugh every day. Pamper yourself. You deserve it.
How to Conquer Clutter
by Stephanie Culp
Ten Commandments on Clutter
1. Stop procrastinating.
2. Quit making excuses.
3. Use it or lose it.
4. Learn to let go.
5. Be a giver.
6. Set limits.
7. Use the in and out inventory rule.
8. Less is more.
9. Keep everything in its place.
10. Compromise.
Smart Organizing
By Sandra Felton
The Bare Bones
Three STEPS to set-up in the house so it works well -- and easily:
1. Consolidate - Group everything together with like items.
2. Containerize - Store them in an appropriate place in containers with labels.
3. Condense - Get rid of duplicates, unused, unwanted, unneeded items.
Two ROUTINES that work consistently in the set-up you have created. Set clock for 10 or 15 minutes:
4. Four things in morning - your choice.
5. Four things at night - your choice.
Five HABITS to keep clutter on the run:
6. If you get it out, put it up.
7. Apply the 30-second rule consistently.
8. Follow the forest camping rule today.
9. Look, really look, at your surroundings.
10. Use little minutes.
The Organizing Sourcebook
by Kathy Waddill
9 Strategies of Reasonably Organized People
1. Make your systems fit you and your life.
2. Sort everything by how you use it.
3. Weed constantly.
4. Use the right containers and tools.
5. Label everything.
6. Keep it simple.
7. Decide to decide.
8. Get help when you need it.
9. Evaluate honestly and often.
It's Hard to Make a Difference When You Can’t Find Your Keys
by Marilyn Paul, Ph.D.
7-Step Path to Becoming Truly Organized
1. Establish Your Purpose.
2. Envision What You Want.
3. Take Stock.
4. Choose Support.
5. Identify Strategies for Change.
6. Take Action.
7. Go Deeper to Keep Going.
Order from Chaos:
A 6-Step Plan for Organizing
Yourself, Your Office and Your Life
by Liz Davenport
1.The Cockpit Office.
2. Air Traffic Control.
3. The Pending File.
4. Make Decisions.
5. Prioritize Ongoingly.
6. Daily Habits.
Odd One Out
The Maverick's Guide to ADD
by Jennifer Koretsky
5 Essential Skills for Managing Adult ADD
1. Break the cycle of overwhelm.
2. Work with your ADD, not against it.
3. ADDjust your attitude.
4. Take control of your space and time.
5. Live out loud.
Organized to Last:
5 Simple Steps to Staying Organized
by Porter Knight
1. Plan
2. Purge
3. Sort
4. Place
5. Use
Zen Habits
by Leo Babauta
Four Laws of Simplicity
1. Collect everything in one place.
2. Choose the essential.
3. Eliminate the rest.
4. Organize the remaining stuff neatly and nicely.
Organizing from the Inside Out
by Julie Morgenstern
1. Analyze
2. Strategize
3. Attack, using SPACE
Sort
Purge
Assign a Home
Containerize
Equalize
Clear and SIMPLE™
by Marla Dee
1. See It
2. Map It
3. Do it, using STACKS
Sort
Toss
Assign a Home
Containerize
Keep It Up
Simplify
Finally, although these affirmations aren’t exactly principles, they are so right-on that I couldn’t resist including them. They are from Clutterers Anonymous.
Clutterers Anonymous Affirmations
We have found that saying affirmations helps us replace negative thoughts with positive ones. Take what you like and leave the rest.
1. I nurture my spirit by surrounding myself with beauty and harmony.
2. I believe I am entitled to surroundings of serenity and order and a joyous life.
3. I set reasonable goals, remembering that my first priority is my well-being.
4. I schedule what I can do at a comfortable pace. I rest before I get tired.
5. I allot more time than I need for a task or trip, allowing a comfortable margin for the unexpected.
6. I decide which are the most important things to do first.
7. I do one thing at a time.
8. I schedule quiet time for communing with my Higher Power. Before I accept any new commitments, I first ask for guidance from my Higher Power.
9. I eliminate an activity from my schedule before adding one that demands equivalent time and energy.
10. When I feel overwhelmed, I stop and reconnect with my Higher Power.
11. I allocate space and time for anything new that I bring into my life or home.
12. I simplify my life, believing that when I need a fact or an item it will be available to me.
13. I affirm abundance and prosperity, thus I release the need to hoard.
14. I ask for help if I have any difficulties in working the program.
15. I schedule time for play and rest, refusing to work non-stop.
16. I believe that I can recover from cluttering and use my experience to benefit others.
17. I accept my progress as proceeding in God's time. I know that patience,tolerance, and taking my time aids me in my recovery.
18. I am gentle with my efforts, knowing that my new way of living requires much practice.
19. I do not yield to pressure or attempt to pressure others.
20. I realize that I am already where I will always be, in the here and now. I live each moment with serenity, joy, and gratitude.
Organizing Solutions for People with ADD
by Susan Pinsky
14 Rules of Organizing
1. Give everything a home.
2. Store things on the wall or a shelf, never on the floor.
3. Take advantage of vertical storage space.
4. Use hooks instead of hangers.
5. Don’t increase storage, reduce inventory.
6. Touch it only once (mail, laundry, etc).
7. If you haven’t touched it in a year, discard it.
8. Duplicate where necessary to store things where you use them.
9. Eliminate items that duplicate functions (electric and manual can opener, for example).
10. Arrange items in activity zones.
11. Don’t overcrowd your storage.
12. Easy to access and easy to put away.
13. Name your storage (sock drawer, dish cabinet).
14. Make sure “rough” storage (garage, basements etc.) are well lit and easily accessible.
The Spiritual Art of Being Organized
by Claire Josefine
12 Basic Principles of Being Organized
1. Think! Think vertical, think verbs, think function, think consequences.
2. Put like with like within zones created by function.
3. K.I.S.S. (Keep it simple, sweetie).
4. Create, and use, habits and schedules.
5. Be realistic.
6. Set boundaries.
7. Dishes before dusting.
8. Slow down and pay attention.
9. Adopt an attitude of gratitude.
10. Base decisions in love instead of fear.
11. Remember that we have choices.
12. Ask for help.
All You Really Need
by Jane Campbell
The Elements of Order
1. Own Less.
2. Give Stuff a Home.
3. Make it Pretty.
4. Categorize.
5. Handle Paper Centrally.
6. Store, Don't Obscure.
7. Files are Better than Piles.
8. Wean Yourself.
9. Travel with Care.
10. Be in Charge.
11. Respect the Earth (But).
12. Invest in a Professional.
The Spirit of Getting Organized:
12 Skills to Finding Meaning and Power in Your Stuff
by Pamela Kristan
12 Organizational Skills
Witness Skills develop a point-of-view
1. Observing gathers data
2. Acknowledging places value
Threshold Skills get us into and out of organizing
3. Beginning decides where to start
4. Ending disengages from the work
Shaping Skills intervene in the physical world
5. Sorting reveals order within the chaos
6. Staging set up an active area
7. Storing sets up archives and collections
8. Shedding identifies what you don’t need and moves it out
Option Skills open up or settle down possibilities
9. Imagining opens up options
10. Choosing settles down options
Skills to Carry On place organization in context
11. Sustaining renews the system
12. Engaging makes connections
The Fly Lady's
11 Commandments
1. Keep your sink clean and shiny.
2. Get dressed every morning, even if you don't feel like it. Don't forget your lace-up shoes.
3. Do your Morning Routine every morning, right when you get up. Do your Before Bed Routine every night.
4. Don't allow yourself to be sidetracked by the computer.
5. Pick up after yourself. If you get it out, put it away when you finish.
6. Don't try to do two projects at once. ONE JOB AT A TIME.
7. Don't pull out more then you can put back in one hour.
8. Do something for yourself every day, maybe every morning and night.
9. Work as fast as you can to get a job done. This will give you more time to play later.
10. Smile even when you don't feel like it. It is contagious. Make up your mind to be happy and you will be.
11. Don't forget to laugh every day. Pamper yourself. You deserve it.
How to Conquer Clutter
by Stephanie Culp
Ten Commandments on Clutter
1. Stop procrastinating.
2. Quit making excuses.
3. Use it or lose it.
4. Learn to let go.
5. Be a giver.
6. Set limits.
7. Use the in and out inventory rule.
8. Less is more.
9. Keep everything in its place.
10. Compromise.
Smart Organizing
By Sandra Felton
The Bare Bones
Three STEPS to set-up in the house so it works well -- and easily:
1. Consolidate - Group everything together with like items.
2. Containerize - Store them in an appropriate place in containers with labels.
3. Condense - Get rid of duplicates, unused, unwanted, unneeded items.
Two ROUTINES that work consistently in the set-up you have created. Set clock for 10 or 15 minutes:
4. Four things in morning - your choice.
5. Four things at night - your choice.
Five HABITS to keep clutter on the run:
6. If you get it out, put it up.
7. Apply the 30-second rule consistently.
8. Follow the forest camping rule today.
9. Look, really look, at your surroundings.
10. Use little minutes.
The Organizing Sourcebook
by Kathy Waddill
9 Strategies of Reasonably Organized People
1. Make your systems fit you and your life.
2. Sort everything by how you use it.
3. Weed constantly.
4. Use the right containers and tools.
5. Label everything.
6. Keep it simple.
7. Decide to decide.
8. Get help when you need it.
9. Evaluate honestly and often.
It's Hard to Make a Difference When You Can’t Find Your Keys
by Marilyn Paul, Ph.D.
7-Step Path to Becoming Truly Organized
1. Establish Your Purpose.
2. Envision What You Want.
3. Take Stock.
4. Choose Support.
5. Identify Strategies for Change.
6. Take Action.
7. Go Deeper to Keep Going.
Order from Chaos:
A 6-Step Plan for Organizing
Yourself, Your Office and Your Life
by Liz Davenport
1.The Cockpit Office.
2. Air Traffic Control.
3. The Pending File.
4. Make Decisions.
5. Prioritize Ongoingly.
6. Daily Habits.
Odd One Out
The Maverick's Guide to ADD
by Jennifer Koretsky
5 Essential Skills for Managing Adult ADD
1. Break the cycle of overwhelm.
2. Work with your ADD, not against it.
3. ADDjust your attitude.
4. Take control of your space and time.
5. Live out loud.
Organized to Last:
5 Simple Steps to Staying Organized
by Porter Knight
1. Plan
2. Purge
3. Sort
4. Place
5. Use
Zen Habits
by Leo Babauta
Four Laws of Simplicity
1. Collect everything in one place.
2. Choose the essential.
3. Eliminate the rest.
4. Organize the remaining stuff neatly and nicely.
Organizing from the Inside Out
by Julie Morgenstern
1. Analyze
2. Strategize
3. Attack, using SPACE
Sort
Purge
Assign a Home
Containerize
Equalize
Clear and SIMPLE™
by Marla Dee
1. See It
2. Map It
3. Do it, using STACKS
Sort
Toss
Assign a Home
Containerize
Keep It Up
Simplify
Finally, although these affirmations aren’t exactly principles, they are so right-on that I couldn’t resist including them. They are from Clutterers Anonymous.
Clutterers Anonymous Affirmations
We have found that saying affirmations helps us replace negative thoughts with positive ones. Take what you like and leave the rest.
1. I nurture my spirit by surrounding myself with beauty and harmony.
2. I believe I am entitled to surroundings of serenity and order and a joyous life.
3. I set reasonable goals, remembering that my first priority is my well-being.
4. I schedule what I can do at a comfortable pace. I rest before I get tired.
5. I allot more time than I need for a task or trip, allowing a comfortable margin for the unexpected.
6. I decide which are the most important things to do first.
7. I do one thing at a time.
8. I schedule quiet time for communing with my Higher Power. Before I accept any new commitments, I first ask for guidance from my Higher Power.
9. I eliminate an activity from my schedule before adding one that demands equivalent time and energy.
10. When I feel overwhelmed, I stop and reconnect with my Higher Power.
11. I allocate space and time for anything new that I bring into my life or home.
12. I simplify my life, believing that when I need a fact or an item it will be available to me.
13. I affirm abundance and prosperity, thus I release the need to hoard.
14. I ask for help if I have any difficulties in working the program.
15. I schedule time for play and rest, refusing to work non-stop.
16. I believe that I can recover from cluttering and use my experience to benefit others.
17. I accept my progress as proceeding in God's time. I know that patience,tolerance, and taking my time aids me in my recovery.
18. I am gentle with my efforts, knowing that my new way of living requires much practice.
19. I do not yield to pressure or attempt to pressure others.
20. I realize that I am already where I will always be, in the here and now. I live each moment with serenity, joy, and gratitude.
28 January 2008
Equanimity
Despite outward appearances of confidence and grounding, I feel blown off balance too easily by external winds. Whether it’s a bi-polar client forgetting her appointment (again) and then acting out in response, or the fear that someone dislikes me, or being co-dependently entangled in a friend’s financial mess, I find myself thrown off course. And so, I am working on the trait of equanimity, of balance.
A friend offered the image of a Whirling Dervish, spinning and spinning around a calm core. This reminded me of a lecture I attended over a decade ago. I’d gone to hear an Ayurvedic practitioner speak at my neighborhood bookstore. He went around the room, identifying each of our dominant doshas. When he got to me, he stumbled. I was either Pitta-Kapha or Kapha-Pitta (Fire-Earth or Earth-Fire) with a core of Vatta (Air) running through my center. (I’m Pitta-Kapha.)
It appears my challenge is to cultivate a calm core, to shift it from air to earth. But how does one change a vapor to a solid? Thinking about water, I realized that one applies cold. So the trick is to chill. Be cool, dude. When the universe tosses me a glitch, take a breath and step back, gain perspective. Remember that there’s a bigger picture than what’s immediately in front of me, and be willing to accept that I don’t have all the information.
The other piece, I think, is to religiously practice grounding through meditation. I’ve been avoiding this for years, although I’m not sure why. A couple of years ago, at the county fair, the palm reader caught my eye and I knew I had to see her. (I’ve never been to a palm reader before or since.) The gist of her message was this: I am psychic and need to be meditating. Okay… I do have a strong relationship with my intuition, and I’ve been told that I’m amazing at running energy, but I don’t feel psychic in the usual understanding of the word. Still, I have been taking beginning psychic classes from Melanie Tolley. She teaches a grounding and aura-cleansing technique that I am now practicing every night before I go to bed. It puts me into a meditative state and, hopefully, will strengthen my grounding abilities so that I can snap to that place whenever I need. Then I’ll just have to remember that I can be grounded at will!
A friend offered the image of a Whirling Dervish, spinning and spinning around a calm core. This reminded me of a lecture I attended over a decade ago. I’d gone to hear an Ayurvedic practitioner speak at my neighborhood bookstore. He went around the room, identifying each of our dominant doshas. When he got to me, he stumbled. I was either Pitta-Kapha or Kapha-Pitta (Fire-Earth or Earth-Fire) with a core of Vatta (Air) running through my center. (I’m Pitta-Kapha.)
It appears my challenge is to cultivate a calm core, to shift it from air to earth. But how does one change a vapor to a solid? Thinking about water, I realized that one applies cold. So the trick is to chill. Be cool, dude. When the universe tosses me a glitch, take a breath and step back, gain perspective. Remember that there’s a bigger picture than what’s immediately in front of me, and be willing to accept that I don’t have all the information.
The other piece, I think, is to religiously practice grounding through meditation. I’ve been avoiding this for years, although I’m not sure why. A couple of years ago, at the county fair, the palm reader caught my eye and I knew I had to see her. (I’ve never been to a palm reader before or since.) The gist of her message was this: I am psychic and need to be meditating. Okay… I do have a strong relationship with my intuition, and I’ve been told that I’m amazing at running energy, but I don’t feel psychic in the usual understanding of the word. Still, I have been taking beginning psychic classes from Melanie Tolley. She teaches a grounding and aura-cleansing technique that I am now practicing every night before I go to bed. It puts me into a meditative state and, hopefully, will strengthen my grounding abilities so that I can snap to that place whenever I need. Then I’ll just have to remember that I can be grounded at will!
27 January 2008
The Minds, They Are A’Changing
Our minds are changing, and I suspect that technology is contributing to the change.
A while back, I wrote a piece on television and ADD (Wait, Maybe We Shouldn’t Kill Our TVs). Since then, I’ve had the pleasure of watching a based-on-the-book lecture by David Weinberger, Everything is Miscellaneous.
I adamantly insist that, when creating a filing system, “Miscellaneous” is verboten – it is the black hole of filing. As long as we are talking about physical items, I believe it is important for us to identify how something is being used and why we are keeping it, and then to use that information to guide where we put it.
In his talk, Weinberger explains how the concept of “a place for everything and everything in its place” makes sense as an organizing concept so long as we are dealing with physical objects. After all, physical objects occupy space, and only one object can occupy that space at one time. But with the advent of computer technology, and especially with the Internet, how we access information has changed. Information no longer needs to occupy only one space. Indeed, online, it can be accessed from many different angles, and becomes more available to us the more places it is “filed.”
I have a client who is a nonfiction author and who’s been diagnosed with ADD. She had file drawers full of clippings and notes for the book she was writing, and hired me to help organize those files. It was a fascinating process because she continually saw the relationships between the information, the connections, and wanted to file accordingly. But the connections were fluid and changeable, which makes accessing the information difficult. Instead, I encouraged her to let me set up the files based on what the information actually was, instead of what it could be. (This worked well for her, by the way, and she thanked me for insisting on this system.)
Because we were dealing with physical objects, with pieces of paper, we were limited to choosing one place for each paper. To set up a cross-reference system – let alone to maintain it! – would have been beyond tedious. BUT, if all this information had been bits of data living in the Internet ether, we could have pursued a different organizational model.
Here’s where I’m going with this: The Internet mirrors the ADD mind. Both are structured around connections and relationships, instead of being limited to linear space.
Which leads me to wonder: What is the relationship between the technological explosion (of television, and of the Internet) and the changes I’m seeing in how our minds process information?
The other piece I’m wondering about is: Why are so many more people being diagnosed with Aspergers? I now have three friends with Aspergers children. How does this fit in with the increase of folks with ADD, and with the changes in technology and how we receive and process information? Or does it?
A while back, I wrote a piece on television and ADD (Wait, Maybe We Shouldn’t Kill Our TVs). Since then, I’ve had the pleasure of watching a based-on-the-book lecture by David Weinberger, Everything is Miscellaneous.
I adamantly insist that, when creating a filing system, “Miscellaneous” is verboten – it is the black hole of filing. As long as we are talking about physical items, I believe it is important for us to identify how something is being used and why we are keeping it, and then to use that information to guide where we put it.
In his talk, Weinberger explains how the concept of “a place for everything and everything in its place” makes sense as an organizing concept so long as we are dealing with physical objects. After all, physical objects occupy space, and only one object can occupy that space at one time. But with the advent of computer technology, and especially with the Internet, how we access information has changed. Information no longer needs to occupy only one space. Indeed, online, it can be accessed from many different angles, and becomes more available to us the more places it is “filed.”
I have a client who is a nonfiction author and who’s been diagnosed with ADD. She had file drawers full of clippings and notes for the book she was writing, and hired me to help organize those files. It was a fascinating process because she continually saw the relationships between the information, the connections, and wanted to file accordingly. But the connections were fluid and changeable, which makes accessing the information difficult. Instead, I encouraged her to let me set up the files based on what the information actually was, instead of what it could be. (This worked well for her, by the way, and she thanked me for insisting on this system.)
Because we were dealing with physical objects, with pieces of paper, we were limited to choosing one place for each paper. To set up a cross-reference system – let alone to maintain it! – would have been beyond tedious. BUT, if all this information had been bits of data living in the Internet ether, we could have pursued a different organizational model.
Here’s where I’m going with this: The Internet mirrors the ADD mind. Both are structured around connections and relationships, instead of being limited to linear space.
Which leads me to wonder: What is the relationship between the technological explosion (of television, and of the Internet) and the changes I’m seeing in how our minds process information?
The other piece I’m wondering about is: Why are so many more people being diagnosed with Aspergers? I now have three friends with Aspergers children. How does this fit in with the increase of folks with ADD, and with the changes in technology and how we receive and process information? Or does it?
20 January 2008
Feeling Crabby
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Mercury’s been retrograde. Seems everything’s falling apart recently. In the past two weeks, I’ve had to replace the toilet and the washing machine. Which has put me through the environmental-ethics wringer.
It appears that Mr. Rooter does not recycle the toilets, even though Kernen Construction takes porcelain fixtures – for free – crushes them, and re-uses them for road base. He doesn’t want to “drive all the way up there” (about 10 to 15 miles); it isn’t worth his time and expense. Sigh. (Otherwise, he's a nice guy and provides great customer support.) Had I known that Kernen Construction recycled toilets, and had I had more time before committing to the old one being replaced, I would have searched out a plumber who took the old fixture in to Kernen. Instead, I’ve contributed unnecessarily to the landfill.
Anthony and I hauled the old washing machine, which would cost almost $200 more to repair than to replace new, to the recycling center and paid the $17 recycling fee. It, at least, will not go to the dump. But I bought a brand-new washer instead of a refurbished one, which means I am consuming considerably more “embodied energy.” It’s just that, when it comes to machines, I want the assurance that it won’t die on me prematurely. Somehow, buying new feels like a safer bet.
But now I feel like a failure as an environmentally-conscious consumer. Okay, the toilet is a low-flow that’s actually designed to work with 1.5 gallons per flush, and the washer is an Energy Star front loader, so it uses minimal water and electricity. Still, I feel like I failed. I should have recycled the toilet, should have bought used instead of new… Shoulda, woulda, coulda.
Perhaps this is where I need to remember that old Al-Anon wisdom of “progress, not perfection.” Overall I have a reasonable eco-footprint (other than the fact that, because I live in the country, I am car dependent). My usual garbage amounts to maybe a quarter of a brown grocery bag per week – everything else is composted or recycled. I buy primarily organic, from small local farmers when possible. I clean with eco-groovy cleaners (mostly Bon Ami and elbow grease), have a small (fully insulated) house.
Or am I justifying away my guilt?
My mom (Franci Gallegos) was proud of being named environmentalist of the year in Sonoma County. She bravely battled the lumber barons (as she called them), fighting to preserve her local watershed. Yet I remember being disgusted by what I deemed her hypocrisy, i.e., the lack of environmental awareness and behavior in her own home. Never mind that she smoked and her whole house reeked something awful (the cat boxes didn’t help); her cupboards were filled with toxic cleaning solutions and unhealthy food. A true “Sierra-Club environmentalist” – that was my mom.
Granted, my life is a hell of a lot cleaner than hers. Still, I wonder if there’s a voice somewhere in my head that says I’m being “just like her.” (And God knows we don’t want to be like our mothers! Isn’t that our great fear, to look in the mirror and see Mom?) Maybe, somewhere inside, I am equally disgusted with my own apparent hypocrisy, which is how I judge my imperfection, and how I project that others will judge me.
Dang. All I wanted was a working toilet and washing machine. How did life get so complicated?
____________________________
On a completely different note, here’s the recipe for tonight’s dinner.
Thai-Inspired Crab Cakes
Combine:
1 large carrot, grated (about 1 cup)
2 green onions, cut thinly (plant the root ends that you cut off – they’ll re-grow!)
1 stalk lemongrass, finely minced
about ½ cup of chopped fresh cilantro
1 thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, grated (a small thumb, that is)
1 Tablespoon fish sauce
3 Tablespoons lime juice
1 teaspoon sugar
Let this sit for a little while so that the flavors can intermingle. When ready to cook the cakes, mix in:
1 egg
Panko crumbs (between ½ cup and 1 cup, just enough to hold everything together)
Then gently fold in:
¼ to 1/3 pound of fresh crab (Dungeness)
6 small prawns, shelled, de-veined, and chopped (optional)
Heat your skillet, add oil (I use organic canola) and fry up the crab cakes over a medium-low heat.
Makes about 16 “slightly flattened golf-ball” sized cakes. (This is how Anthony described the shape and size when I asked him about them.)
It appears that Mr. Rooter does not recycle the toilets, even though Kernen Construction takes porcelain fixtures – for free – crushes them, and re-uses them for road base. He doesn’t want to “drive all the way up there” (about 10 to 15 miles); it isn’t worth his time and expense. Sigh. (Otherwise, he's a nice guy and provides great customer support.) Had I known that Kernen Construction recycled toilets, and had I had more time before committing to the old one being replaced, I would have searched out a plumber who took the old fixture in to Kernen. Instead, I’ve contributed unnecessarily to the landfill.
Anthony and I hauled the old washing machine, which would cost almost $200 more to repair than to replace new, to the recycling center and paid the $17 recycling fee. It, at least, will not go to the dump. But I bought a brand-new washer instead of a refurbished one, which means I am consuming considerably more “embodied energy.” It’s just that, when it comes to machines, I want the assurance that it won’t die on me prematurely. Somehow, buying new feels like a safer bet.
But now I feel like a failure as an environmentally-conscious consumer. Okay, the toilet is a low-flow that’s actually designed to work with 1.5 gallons per flush, and the washer is an Energy Star front loader, so it uses minimal water and electricity. Still, I feel like I failed. I should have recycled the toilet, should have bought used instead of new… Shoulda, woulda, coulda.
Perhaps this is where I need to remember that old Al-Anon wisdom of “progress, not perfection.” Overall I have a reasonable eco-footprint (other than the fact that, because I live in the country, I am car dependent). My usual garbage amounts to maybe a quarter of a brown grocery bag per week – everything else is composted or recycled. I buy primarily organic, from small local farmers when possible. I clean with eco-groovy cleaners (mostly Bon Ami and elbow grease), have a small (fully insulated) house.
Or am I justifying away my guilt?
My mom (Franci Gallegos) was proud of being named environmentalist of the year in Sonoma County. She bravely battled the lumber barons (as she called them), fighting to preserve her local watershed. Yet I remember being disgusted by what I deemed her hypocrisy, i.e., the lack of environmental awareness and behavior in her own home. Never mind that she smoked and her whole house reeked something awful (the cat boxes didn’t help); her cupboards were filled with toxic cleaning solutions and unhealthy food. A true “Sierra-Club environmentalist” – that was my mom.
Granted, my life is a hell of a lot cleaner than hers. Still, I wonder if there’s a voice somewhere in my head that says I’m being “just like her.” (And God knows we don’t want to be like our mothers! Isn’t that our great fear, to look in the mirror and see Mom?) Maybe, somewhere inside, I am equally disgusted with my own apparent hypocrisy, which is how I judge my imperfection, and how I project that others will judge me.
Dang. All I wanted was a working toilet and washing machine. How did life get so complicated?
____________________________
On a completely different note, here’s the recipe for tonight’s dinner.
Thai-Inspired Crab Cakes
Combine:
1 large carrot, grated (about 1 cup)
2 green onions, cut thinly (plant the root ends that you cut off – they’ll re-grow!)
1 stalk lemongrass, finely minced
about ½ cup of chopped fresh cilantro
1 thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, grated (a small thumb, that is)
1 Tablespoon fish sauce
3 Tablespoons lime juice
1 teaspoon sugar
Let this sit for a little while so that the flavors can intermingle. When ready to cook the cakes, mix in:
1 egg
Panko crumbs (between ½ cup and 1 cup, just enough to hold everything together)
Then gently fold in:
¼ to 1/3 pound of fresh crab (Dungeness)
6 small prawns, shelled, de-veined, and chopped (optional)
Heat your skillet, add oil (I use organic canola) and fry up the crab cakes over a medium-low heat.
Makes about 16 “slightly flattened golf-ball” sized cakes. (This is how Anthony described the shape and size when I asked him about them.)
08 January 2008
Cate Cummings
Today’s issue of Shelf Awareness brought a piece of startling news. Cate Cummings, “a freelance publicist who specialized in mind/body and metaphysical titles, died on January 3 from cancer. She was 53.
Her career spanned more than 25 years, according to the Kansas City Star, which said that she will be remembered ‘for her quick wit, her compassionate treatment and advocacy of animals and her love of life.’"
Cate handled a publicity campaign a couple of years ago for my book, The Spiritual Art of Being Organized. She loved the book. What’s more, she believed in it.
Although I never had the pleasure of meeting her in person, we had several good talks over the phone. Cate was funny, warm-hearted, generous, and knew her stuff. She also loved cats as much as I do; we’d spend half our time on the phone exchanging cat stories.
I had no idea that Cate was ill, although I guess that explains why emails to her came back with the message that her mailbox was full. In fact, I’d been looking forward to finally meeting her at the INATS show in Denver this June. Phooey.
Cate, I’m sorry I never got to meet you. I’m grateful for your support and wisdom, and pray that you are happy, wherever you are now. I know it’s cliché, but the world is poorer for your absence. Bless you.
Cate handled a publicity campaign a couple of years ago for my book, The Spiritual Art of Being Organized. She loved the book. What’s more, she believed in it.
Although I never had the pleasure of meeting her in person, we had several good talks over the phone. Cate was funny, warm-hearted, generous, and knew her stuff. She also loved cats as much as I do; we’d spend half our time on the phone exchanging cat stories.
I had no idea that Cate was ill, although I guess that explains why emails to her came back with the message that her mailbox was full. In fact, I’d been looking forward to finally meeting her at the INATS show in Denver this June. Phooey.
Cate, I’m sorry I never got to meet you. I’m grateful for your support and wisdom, and pray that you are happy, wherever you are now. I know it’s cliché, but the world is poorer for your absence. Bless you.
06 January 2008
Computer Literacy?
I read on Southern Review of Books that a Russian publisher is releasing a novel that was written by a computer. Evidently, a group of philologists and software folks collaborated to write a program known as PC Writer 2008.
The result? To quote the Southern Review: “The basic story line of what the publisher claims is the first computer-generated novel, conditionally titled ‘[True love]*.wrt’, is the love story of Anna Karenina’s main characters. The action takes place on an unknown island in times similar to the present. The book is written in Haruki Murakami’s manner, while the style is based on the vocabulary, language and literary tools of 13 Russian and foreign authors of the 19th and 20th centuries.”
This reminds me of an idea I had back in college, circa 1980. My friends and I were playing a lot of Scrabble back then, and one of my buddies was a computer programmer. We also fancied ourselves poets, or at least hung out at poetry readings. My idea was this: to take all the words created in our Scrabble games – and only these words – and then write a computer program that would generate poetry from that limited allotment of vocabulary. We would program the computer to “write” so many lines with pre-determined (and varying) noun/verb/adjective patterns, and to incorporate meters. I fancied the result would be a sort of Found Poetry, with maybe a bit of Dada flavor. These would be our Scrabble poems.
Okay, so it isn’t a great Russian novel. Heck, I never even wrote the program (or rather, worked with my programmer friend so that he could write the program). But it was a fun idea, and here we are, almost 30 years later, with a variation on the computer-writer theme.
The result? To quote the Southern Review: “The basic story line of what the publisher claims is the first computer-generated novel, conditionally titled ‘[True love]*.wrt’, is the love story of Anna Karenina’s main characters. The action takes place on an unknown island in times similar to the present. The book is written in Haruki Murakami’s manner, while the style is based on the vocabulary, language and literary tools of 13 Russian and foreign authors of the 19th and 20th centuries.”
This reminds me of an idea I had back in college, circa 1980. My friends and I were playing a lot of Scrabble back then, and one of my buddies was a computer programmer. We also fancied ourselves poets, or at least hung out at poetry readings. My idea was this: to take all the words created in our Scrabble games – and only these words – and then write a computer program that would generate poetry from that limited allotment of vocabulary. We would program the computer to “write” so many lines with pre-determined (and varying) noun/verb/adjective patterns, and to incorporate meters. I fancied the result would be a sort of Found Poetry, with maybe a bit of Dada flavor. These would be our Scrabble poems.
Okay, so it isn’t a great Russian novel. Heck, I never even wrote the program (or rather, worked with my programmer friend so that he could write the program). But it was a fun idea, and here we are, almost 30 years later, with a variation on the computer-writer theme.
04 January 2008
Lac d'Elk
Winters in western Sonoma County could be exciting. I remember, growing up in Camp Meeker, how the Russian River would crest its banks, and we’d (foolishly) drive out to Monte Rio and toward Guerneville to see the flood. It seemed magnificent, exhilarating. Except of course for the poor folks who actually lived along the riverbanks. Silly people, I judged – why would they live so close to a river they knew flooded regularly?
Thirty years later, I must turn the same judgment on myself. As it has every year that I’ve lived here, the Elk River is rising. It crested its banks this afternoon, and I watched it crawl across Farmer John’s field toward my house.
It’s actually lovely, in a way. I can gaze across the pasture through my kitchen and bedroom windows. This time of year, the riparian willows are bare, so I can see through them to the river’s bank and beyond to Farmer John’s dairy barn. When the river rises to its bank, I see its shimmer through the trees. And when it crests, it forms pools in the pasture’s hollows. Eventually those pools grow until they join into one continuous, rippling brown flow. Then the birds arrive, the blue herons and the crows, maybe a turkey vulture or two.
Usually the river stays there, about one-third of the way across the pasture toward my house. About once a year, though, it gets bad. Elk River becomes Lac d’Elk, a wide, mucky current sprawling from Larry’s fields, through the Franceschi’s back property, across the road to my back yard. The river makes a big U right at my place, and Farmer’s John pasture is the space inside the U. When we flood, the river fills the U-shaped pasture, joining banks right through my property.
And when the river REALLY floods, it rushes up around my house. My home becomes an island, with water gushing around and under the building.
This is where I thank my architect for suggesting that, as long as I had to put in a new foundation when I bought the place, why not raise the house 3 feet?
Had we not raised the house, it would have been destroyed by flood the first winter I lived here. As is, it came up 18 inches in the carport that year, literally ½ an inch from coming in the back door to the utility room. (I did not raise the little rooms that are at the back of the carport.) The house, thank God (and my architect), is out of harm’s way.
But the carport gets thrashed by the flood waters. It’s always an interesting call once the river’s risen. Is this the time it will flood all the way? Will it flood tonight, after I’ve gone to bed? How much more will it rain, and what’s going on with the tides?
Just in case, I drove the rider mower over to Marianne’s tonight and stored it in her shelter, high on her hill. I also parked my car up by the road. If I truly thought it would flood tonight (and none of the residents down Elk River Courts -- who become stranded back there because their bridge gets covered by water -- have moved their cars up to the road, so I guess the danger isn’t that high), I would move the bicycles and the push mower up onto my tenant’s back steps. (His house is on slightly higher ground and out of flood range.)
So why the hell did I buy a place on a river that floods, given how I used to scoff at people who did just this when I was younger? Well, other than karma… I honestly did not know it would flood. I was informed, during the purchasing process, that the property was zoned 100-year flood plain, and that it had flooded just a few years prior. Hey, I had another 100 years, right?
Well, if Pacific Lumber/Maxxam had not destroyed the river with sedimentary run-off from their rapacious logging upstream, I probably would have had that 100 years. Instead, I have a home that I love with an annual “lakeside” view.
* * * * *
Well, it's morning now and the Elk River is back within its banks. Evidently, last night was not the night for our annual flood. It was, however, quite a storm, with lightening brightly visible through closed eyes and long loud thunders and rain slamming into the bedroom windows. All at 2:00 a.m. Sleep? What's sleep?
Thirty years later, I must turn the same judgment on myself. As it has every year that I’ve lived here, the Elk River is rising. It crested its banks this afternoon, and I watched it crawl across Farmer John’s field toward my house.
It’s actually lovely, in a way. I can gaze across the pasture through my kitchen and bedroom windows. This time of year, the riparian willows are bare, so I can see through them to the river’s bank and beyond to Farmer John’s dairy barn. When the river rises to its bank, I see its shimmer through the trees. And when it crests, it forms pools in the pasture’s hollows. Eventually those pools grow until they join into one continuous, rippling brown flow. Then the birds arrive, the blue herons and the crows, maybe a turkey vulture or two.
Usually the river stays there, about one-third of the way across the pasture toward my house. About once a year, though, it gets bad. Elk River becomes Lac d’Elk, a wide, mucky current sprawling from Larry’s fields, through the Franceschi’s back property, across the road to my back yard. The river makes a big U right at my place, and Farmer’s John pasture is the space inside the U. When we flood, the river fills the U-shaped pasture, joining banks right through my property.
And when the river REALLY floods, it rushes up around my house. My home becomes an island, with water gushing around and under the building.
This is where I thank my architect for suggesting that, as long as I had to put in a new foundation when I bought the place, why not raise the house 3 feet?
Had we not raised the house, it would have been destroyed by flood the first winter I lived here. As is, it came up 18 inches in the carport that year, literally ½ an inch from coming in the back door to the utility room. (I did not raise the little rooms that are at the back of the carport.) The house, thank God (and my architect), is out of harm’s way.
But the carport gets thrashed by the flood waters. It’s always an interesting call once the river’s risen. Is this the time it will flood all the way? Will it flood tonight, after I’ve gone to bed? How much more will it rain, and what’s going on with the tides?
Just in case, I drove the rider mower over to Marianne’s tonight and stored it in her shelter, high on her hill. I also parked my car up by the road. If I truly thought it would flood tonight (and none of the residents down Elk River Courts -- who become stranded back there because their bridge gets covered by water -- have moved their cars up to the road, so I guess the danger isn’t that high), I would move the bicycles and the push mower up onto my tenant’s back steps. (His house is on slightly higher ground and out of flood range.)
So why the hell did I buy a place on a river that floods, given how I used to scoff at people who did just this when I was younger? Well, other than karma… I honestly did not know it would flood. I was informed, during the purchasing process, that the property was zoned 100-year flood plain, and that it had flooded just a few years prior. Hey, I had another 100 years, right?
Well, if Pacific Lumber/Maxxam had not destroyed the river with sedimentary run-off from their rapacious logging upstream, I probably would have had that 100 years. Instead, I have a home that I love with an annual “lakeside” view.
* * * * *
Well, it's morning now and the Elk River is back within its banks. Evidently, last night was not the night for our annual flood. It was, however, quite a storm, with lightening brightly visible through closed eyes and long loud thunders and rain slamming into the bedroom windows. All at 2:00 a.m. Sleep? What's sleep?
16 December 2007
Bow Down? And Save the (Birth)Day
I’ve been reading Alan Morinis’ Everyday Holiness, a book about the ancient Jewish spiritual path of Mussar. In the appendix is a soul-trait inventory to “help you identify the soul-traits that are part of your own spiritual curriculum.” It’s an interesting list, ranging through awareness and humility to honesty, kindness, fear, and strength.
Mussar recommends identifying 13 soul-traits on which to focus, one at a time, rotating through them four times over the course of one year. So I went through the list, seeking to name the traits on which I needed most focus. Some of them, I discovered, were traits I’m actually strong in: gratitude, simplicity, order. Others jumped out at me as obvious weaknesses: patience, equanimity, trust… Coming up with 13 wasn’t that difficult.
Except for one trait, to which I responded vehemently: Obedience. What? Hell no, I will not work on being obedient. I don’t believe in obedience, for me or for anyone else. Freedom is one of my highest values. Obedience sounds like patriarchal domination crap, nothing I want any part of. (I have issues with the patriarchal construct of the Judeo-Christian-Muslim religions. But that’s another discussion.)
I know I’m not alone in my reaction to Obedience. My colleague Barbara says she would toss the Obedience angel card back in to the pot anytime she drew it. But if I have such a strong negative reaction to it, I thought, does that mean I must add the trait to my list of 13?
No. If I’ve learned nothing else so far, I’ve learned to honor and trust myself. If I feel this strongly about the rightness of humans not being obedient to each other, then I shall honor my belief. I will not work on being obedient to others.
Oh, but wait! Maybe Obedience doesn’t mean between humans. Obedience can also speak of our relationship to our Higher Power. It can mean listening to and taking direction from our intuition, or God, or the Goddess, or Universe, or whatever we call he/she/it/them. And this I’m not only okay with, I’m actually pretty good at. I take orders from HP on a regular basis, usually delivered in the form of Inspiration. (Okay, sometimes I kick and fuss first, but not too much and not for long.)
I guess my initial reaction to Obedience was a case of kicking and fussing. But once I looked at the concept from a different perspective, I shifted from feeling pressured to include Obedience among the 13 soul-traits of my soul’s curriculum to recognizing it as already being among my strengths.
________________________________________________________________________________________
Anthony’s mom’s birthday is tomorrow, and she’s driving up today for her birthday dinner with us. Anthony’s making spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and salad. I’m in charge of the chocolate cake. So this morning I made the cake. Followed the directions on the box of Dr. Oetker’s organic chocolate cake, but jazzed it up by mixing in about a cup of little Sunspire chocolate chips. Can’t have too much chocolate, right? Wrong. Once the cake cooled, it collapsed in the center. Too much gooey warm chocolate chips! What to do?
Talk about inspiration… I cut out the middle so that the cake looked like a ring, then spread the goo over the top and sides instead of frosting it with a chocolate glaze. Then I cooked up a package of Trader Joe’s organic raspberries, some Triple Sec, and a couple of (very) heaping tablespoons of powdered sugar (adjust quantities to taste) until the sauce had thickened some. Once it had cooled, I spooned the raspberry sauce over the cake. It looks lovely, and I’m sure it will be delicious. The only problem is where to put her birthday candle (a question-mark candle that has become a tradition with Anthony and me). Anthony suggested filling the hole inside the cake ring with Satsuma orange segments. I like the idea, and the image, so we may do this and balance the candle in among them.
Mussar recommends identifying 13 soul-traits on which to focus, one at a time, rotating through them four times over the course of one year. So I went through the list, seeking to name the traits on which I needed most focus. Some of them, I discovered, were traits I’m actually strong in: gratitude, simplicity, order. Others jumped out at me as obvious weaknesses: patience, equanimity, trust… Coming up with 13 wasn’t that difficult.
Except for one trait, to which I responded vehemently: Obedience. What? Hell no, I will not work on being obedient. I don’t believe in obedience, for me or for anyone else. Freedom is one of my highest values. Obedience sounds like patriarchal domination crap, nothing I want any part of. (I have issues with the patriarchal construct of the Judeo-Christian-Muslim religions. But that’s another discussion.)
I know I’m not alone in my reaction to Obedience. My colleague Barbara says she would toss the Obedience angel card back in to the pot anytime she drew it. But if I have such a strong negative reaction to it, I thought, does that mean I must add the trait to my list of 13?
No. If I’ve learned nothing else so far, I’ve learned to honor and trust myself. If I feel this strongly about the rightness of humans not being obedient to each other, then I shall honor my belief. I will not work on being obedient to others.
Oh, but wait! Maybe Obedience doesn’t mean between humans. Obedience can also speak of our relationship to our Higher Power. It can mean listening to and taking direction from our intuition, or God, or the Goddess, or Universe, or whatever we call he/she/it/them. And this I’m not only okay with, I’m actually pretty good at. I take orders from HP on a regular basis, usually delivered in the form of Inspiration. (Okay, sometimes I kick and fuss first, but not too much and not for long.)
I guess my initial reaction to Obedience was a case of kicking and fussing. But once I looked at the concept from a different perspective, I shifted from feeling pressured to include Obedience among the 13 soul-traits of my soul’s curriculum to recognizing it as already being among my strengths.
________________________________________________________________________________________
Anthony’s mom’s birthday is tomorrow, and she’s driving up today for her birthday dinner with us. Anthony’s making spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and salad. I’m in charge of the chocolate cake. So this morning I made the cake. Followed the directions on the box of Dr. Oetker’s organic chocolate cake, but jazzed it up by mixing in about a cup of little Sunspire chocolate chips. Can’t have too much chocolate, right? Wrong. Once the cake cooled, it collapsed in the center. Too much gooey warm chocolate chips! What to do?
Talk about inspiration… I cut out the middle so that the cake looked like a ring, then spread the goo over the top and sides instead of frosting it with a chocolate glaze. Then I cooked up a package of Trader Joe’s organic raspberries, some Triple Sec, and a couple of (very) heaping tablespoons of powdered sugar (adjust quantities to taste) until the sauce had thickened some. Once it had cooled, I spooned the raspberry sauce over the cake. It looks lovely, and I’m sure it will be delicious. The only problem is where to put her birthday candle (a question-mark candle that has become a tradition with Anthony and me). Anthony suggested filling the hole inside the cake ring with Satsuma orange segments. I like the idea, and the image, so we may do this and balance the candle in among them.
13 December 2007
Shifting Perspective
Anthony was 22 when we got together, almost 23. I am 18 years older. Throughout our years together, I have felt – and said – that I am his “finishing school,” that my role in his life has been to bring him into adulthood, that this was our karmic relationship.
Of course, this has only been one part of our relationship. I love Anthony deeply, and we are truly friends, sharing grand adventures and simple details of daily living. Still, I have carried the assumption that I was his stepping stone into adulthood, and that at some point (I had thought when he turned 30, but that was over a year ago), he would launch from our nest. (Yeah, that’s a mixed metaphor. Forgive me.) Not that I wanted him to leave. I wanted (still want) him to grow up, to step up and be the responsible man I want as my partner.
And I have not been patient.
I carry expectations, of what it means for Anthony to be an adult, what his being responsible should look like. And I carry expectations of what a partner would be for me, how that responsible adult would fit into and support my life. When Anthony does not fit my expectations, I become irritable. There have been many times over our 8 years together when I’ve wanted out of the relationship, but I haven’t left yet.
I know that my impatience and irritability are my responsibility. And I know how much it sucks to have a partner who wants you to change, to be something other than you are. I don’t want to do this to Anthony. I also know it’s ridiculous to be with someone on the premise that they will change. The only thing that I can change is me. Which brings me to yesterday’s revelation.
I believe that we are souls who have chosen to be human in order to learn and grow, to make existence (on the grand scale) better and more whole. We all have areas in which to improve. Clearly, patience and acceptance (and trust, honor, equanimity, and respect) are areas in which I need to progress. And who better to teach me patience than the man who triggers my impatience faster than anyone?
What I have realized is this: Anthony’s soul is giving my soul a gift. He has agreed to present opportunity (after opportunity) for me to practice patience and acceptance (and honor and equanimity and respect). And so that is the work I move into. I move into gratitude to Anthony for gifting me with opportunity to grow. I move into practicing acceptance of Anthony, learning to respect and honor him for who he is instead of longing for who I want him to be. I shift the focus off of him and onto me, where it belongs.
Whether learning to accept and respect Anthony as he is results in our staying together or moving toward other partners remains to be seen. Either way, my guess is we’ll come out of this more whole, better souls. I also suspect that, by pulling the attention back onto myself, I will be giving him the room to become his best self, whoever that may be.
Of course, this has only been one part of our relationship. I love Anthony deeply, and we are truly friends, sharing grand adventures and simple details of daily living. Still, I have carried the assumption that I was his stepping stone into adulthood, and that at some point (I had thought when he turned 30, but that was over a year ago), he would launch from our nest. (Yeah, that’s a mixed metaphor. Forgive me.) Not that I wanted him to leave. I wanted (still want) him to grow up, to step up and be the responsible man I want as my partner.
And I have not been patient.
I carry expectations, of what it means for Anthony to be an adult, what his being responsible should look like. And I carry expectations of what a partner would be for me, how that responsible adult would fit into and support my life. When Anthony does not fit my expectations, I become irritable. There have been many times over our 8 years together when I’ve wanted out of the relationship, but I haven’t left yet.
I know that my impatience and irritability are my responsibility. And I know how much it sucks to have a partner who wants you to change, to be something other than you are. I don’t want to do this to Anthony. I also know it’s ridiculous to be with someone on the premise that they will change. The only thing that I can change is me. Which brings me to yesterday’s revelation.
I believe that we are souls who have chosen to be human in order to learn and grow, to make existence (on the grand scale) better and more whole. We all have areas in which to improve. Clearly, patience and acceptance (and trust, honor, equanimity, and respect) are areas in which I need to progress. And who better to teach me patience than the man who triggers my impatience faster than anyone?
What I have realized is this: Anthony’s soul is giving my soul a gift. He has agreed to present opportunity (after opportunity) for me to practice patience and acceptance (and honor and equanimity and respect). And so that is the work I move into. I move into gratitude to Anthony for gifting me with opportunity to grow. I move into practicing acceptance of Anthony, learning to respect and honor him for who he is instead of longing for who I want him to be. I shift the focus off of him and onto me, where it belongs.
Whether learning to accept and respect Anthony as he is results in our staying together or moving toward other partners remains to be seen. Either way, my guess is we’ll come out of this more whole, better souls. I also suspect that, by pulling the attention back onto myself, I will be giving him the room to become his best self, whoever that may be.
18 November 2007
Ultimate Organization for Scrapbooking
The best reason I know of for being organized is so we can find our toys. This is particularly true for creative people, be they writers, painters, photographers, bakers, or scrapbookers. In fact, it may be especially pertinent to scrapbookers, who tend to be deluged with scrapbook materials – so much so that they lose creative time looking for and gathering together their supplies. That is, assuming they remember they have the supplies to gather.
Typically, organizing tips suggest that scrapbookers store their supplies in containers and notebooks by type of item: stickers, stamps, die cuts, ribbons, buttons, page kits. In theory, this makes sense. It’s putting like with like, which any organizer will tell you is a basic organizing principle. However, it doesn’t work for scrapbooking. To begin with, the supplies are stored away, out of sight (and out of mind). Second, accessing supplies requires digging through numerous binders and containers to pull out some of this and some of that – all of which needs to be returned to the numerous containers and binders when you are done playing with it.
Instead of putting things together by what they are, try grouping them by how they’ll be used. I recommend using Tiffany Spaulding’s Four Section System. The four sections are:
Titles – This includes anything you’d use for titles, including alphabets, numbers, punctuation marks, computer fonts, stamps, die cuts, etc.
Personal Themes – Any themes specific to your life and interests, be it cooking, gardening, people, pets, sports, vacations or any other theme that catches your fancy. (Notice that I’ve put these in alphabetical order. You will order your themes alphabetically, too.)
Holidays and Seasons – Set this section up chronologically, beginning with Spring and accompanying holidays: Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Passover, etc. Summer might include Memorial Day, Fourth of July, picnics, and Labor Day. Fall encompasses Back to School, Halloween, and Thanksgiving. Winter takes us into Solstice, Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanza, and New Year’s Eve.
Color Wheel (or Rainbow) – All supplies that have no theme or season and can be used anywhere go here, organized by color.
The key to making the Four Section System work is having all materials visible and centrally located. The best tool for this – leaps and bounds beyond those binders and containers – is Tiffany Spaulding’s ScrapRack™. The ScrapRack™ has a base that sits like a book stand but can be taken down and laid flat for storage. Each base holds seven Spinders – Velcroed 3-ring binder-like inserts, each of which holds up to 20 to 30 clear pocket sheets of various size and storage capacity.
I like the ScrapRack™ for a number of reasons:
• All materials are visible, which means you can find any supply you own within 30 seconds. (Imagine spending time creating pages instead of hunting for your supplies!)
• The ScrapRack™ is portable. Because of the Velcro, you can easily remove (and put back) the Spinders and take them to a crop. (The kit comes with a travel pack, too.)
• The ScrapRack™ takes up very little room. The basic set-up fits on a TV tray.
• The ScrapRack™ is expandable. As your life changes and you develop new themes (or acquire new supplies), they system can expand to accommodate your needs.
• The ScrapRack™ is flexible. It can be used by teachers, geneologists, project managers, and people with ADD to organize their materials in a visible, portable fashion.
• The ScrapRack™ folds down and stacks for easy storage.
One scrapbooker commented that “You don’t have to have an organized bone in your body to use this system. Just follow the directions; it works!” A couple of principles help make the system work most efficiently, though.
1. Think of the ScrapRack™ as a work station, not a storage unit. Don’t try to stuff everything you own into the Spinder pages. If you have a large amount of something, put a sample of it into the appropriate section(s), and store the rest elsewhere. (This is akin to setting up a desk at an office. Keep what you use at your desk, and store the extra supplies in the office supply closet.)
2. Store your tools by number, not type. While acrylic stamps fit into the pocket pages, wooden and rubber stamps and most other tools won’t. The trick here is to put a sample of the stamp or tool into the appropriate section(s) and number the sample. Then store your tools in containers labeled with the corresponding number range, say 1 to 10, 11 to 20, and so on. Different kinds of tools can be in the same numbered box so that when you add a new tool you don’t have to re-arrange the existing boxes. Instead, make a sample of the new tool, assign it the next available number, and add it to the correct box.
By having materials organized, accessible, and visible, scrapbookers save money and increase productivity. You can see all of your choices quickly, and know what you have on hand. (No more buying of duplicates!) Scrapbooking becomes easier, faster, and more enjoyable. And isn’t that what it’s all about?
Typically, organizing tips suggest that scrapbookers store their supplies in containers and notebooks by type of item: stickers, stamps, die cuts, ribbons, buttons, page kits. In theory, this makes sense. It’s putting like with like, which any organizer will tell you is a basic organizing principle. However, it doesn’t work for scrapbooking. To begin with, the supplies are stored away, out of sight (and out of mind). Second, accessing supplies requires digging through numerous binders and containers to pull out some of this and some of that – all of which needs to be returned to the numerous containers and binders when you are done playing with it.
Instead of putting things together by what they are, try grouping them by how they’ll be used. I recommend using Tiffany Spaulding’s Four Section System. The four sections are:
Titles – This includes anything you’d use for titles, including alphabets, numbers, punctuation marks, computer fonts, stamps, die cuts, etc.
Personal Themes – Any themes specific to your life and interests, be it cooking, gardening, people, pets, sports, vacations or any other theme that catches your fancy. (Notice that I’ve put these in alphabetical order. You will order your themes alphabetically, too.)
Holidays and Seasons – Set this section up chronologically, beginning with Spring and accompanying holidays: Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Passover, etc. Summer might include Memorial Day, Fourth of July, picnics, and Labor Day. Fall encompasses Back to School, Halloween, and Thanksgiving. Winter takes us into Solstice, Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanza, and New Year’s Eve.
Color Wheel (or Rainbow) – All supplies that have no theme or season and can be used anywhere go here, organized by color.
The key to making the Four Section System work is having all materials visible and centrally located. The best tool for this – leaps and bounds beyond those binders and containers – is Tiffany Spaulding’s ScrapRack™. The ScrapRack™ has a base that sits like a book stand but can be taken down and laid flat for storage. Each base holds seven Spinders – Velcroed 3-ring binder-like inserts, each of which holds up to 20 to 30 clear pocket sheets of various size and storage capacity.
I like the ScrapRack™ for a number of reasons:
• All materials are visible, which means you can find any supply you own within 30 seconds. (Imagine spending time creating pages instead of hunting for your supplies!)
• The ScrapRack™ is portable. Because of the Velcro, you can easily remove (and put back) the Spinders and take them to a crop. (The kit comes with a travel pack, too.)
• The ScrapRack™ takes up very little room. The basic set-up fits on a TV tray.
• The ScrapRack™ is expandable. As your life changes and you develop new themes (or acquire new supplies), they system can expand to accommodate your needs.
• The ScrapRack™ is flexible. It can be used by teachers, geneologists, project managers, and people with ADD to organize their materials in a visible, portable fashion.
• The ScrapRack™ folds down and stacks for easy storage.
One scrapbooker commented that “You don’t have to have an organized bone in your body to use this system. Just follow the directions; it works!” A couple of principles help make the system work most efficiently, though.
1. Think of the ScrapRack™ as a work station, not a storage unit. Don’t try to stuff everything you own into the Spinder pages. If you have a large amount of something, put a sample of it into the appropriate section(s), and store the rest elsewhere. (This is akin to setting up a desk at an office. Keep what you use at your desk, and store the extra supplies in the office supply closet.)
2. Store your tools by number, not type. While acrylic stamps fit into the pocket pages, wooden and rubber stamps and most other tools won’t. The trick here is to put a sample of the stamp or tool into the appropriate section(s) and number the sample. Then store your tools in containers labeled with the corresponding number range, say 1 to 10, 11 to 20, and so on. Different kinds of tools can be in the same numbered box so that when you add a new tool you don’t have to re-arrange the existing boxes. Instead, make a sample of the new tool, assign it the next available number, and add it to the correct box.
By having materials organized, accessible, and visible, scrapbookers save money and increase productivity. You can see all of your choices quickly, and know what you have on hand. (No more buying of duplicates!) Scrapbooking becomes easier, faster, and more enjoyable. And isn’t that what it’s all about?
10 November 2007
Jubilee?
And on the seventh day, God rested.
The seventh day. Shabbat. A day of rest.
In the seventh year, fields are left fallow.
And seven sevens? The 49th year? This is the year of Jubilee.
My psychic counselor said it would be my year of rest.
Ha!
Here I am, just two months into being 49, and my life is one long ripple of activity and growth. In addition to my numerous writing projects, I’ve committed to two new, huge projects.
Project #1 – I’ve bit the bullet and signed on for NSGCD’s Level III certification program. NSGCD stands for the National Study Group on Chronic Disorganization, and is the organization through which I’ve earned numerous certificates of study as well as my Specialist Certificates in Chronic Disorganization and in ADD. At the end of the Level III training, which takes about 18 months of studying and working with a coach, and culminates in a peer review, I will be a Certified Professional Organizer, or CPO® – CD. To the best of my knowledge, there are less than 50 CPO® – CDs in the world at this time.
Project #2 – I’ve joined the gym. More importantly, I’ve written the exercise classes and workout times into my calendar as actual appointments. Five mornings a week, Monday through Friday, I will be challenging my body, inviting it to remember the strength and flexibility of its youth. Aqua aerobics (which Anthony promises to take with me), Pilates, and machines will fill my mornings. God willing, I may actually get my body back.
Of course, devoting my mornings to my body means I need to restructure my consulting hours. I’ve decided to experiment with increasing my hourly minimum from two hours to three. Most organizers have a three-hour minimum, usually four hours (or more). We’ll see how I adjust to working longer sessions. The up side is that I will only work with one client a day (instead of two), which will keep me fresh for my clients.
And I’m still working away at my third book, what I call the Tzedakah book. It is requiring a great deal of research. Bit by bit, I continue to gather information and write pages.
And I am marketing Following Raven. And I’m writing two articles for organizing newsletters. And two lectures. And three press releases for Get Organized month. (The local professional organizers have formed an informal NAPO group that we are calling H.O.P.E. – Humboldt Organizing Professionals Exchange. We are doing two projects for Get Organized month [January]. One is a radio contest; the other is a lecture series at the public library. I’m in charge of writing press releases for both activities as well as a general one on H.O.P.E.)
Did someone say something about rest?
The seventh day. Shabbat. A day of rest.
In the seventh year, fields are left fallow.
And seven sevens? The 49th year? This is the year of Jubilee.
My psychic counselor said it would be my year of rest.
Ha!
Here I am, just two months into being 49, and my life is one long ripple of activity and growth. In addition to my numerous writing projects, I’ve committed to two new, huge projects.
Project #1 – I’ve bit the bullet and signed on for NSGCD’s Level III certification program. NSGCD stands for the National Study Group on Chronic Disorganization, and is the organization through which I’ve earned numerous certificates of study as well as my Specialist Certificates in Chronic Disorganization and in ADD. At the end of the Level III training, which takes about 18 months of studying and working with a coach, and culminates in a peer review, I will be a Certified Professional Organizer, or CPO® – CD. To the best of my knowledge, there are less than 50 CPO® – CDs in the world at this time.
Project #2 – I’ve joined the gym. More importantly, I’ve written the exercise classes and workout times into my calendar as actual appointments. Five mornings a week, Monday through Friday, I will be challenging my body, inviting it to remember the strength and flexibility of its youth. Aqua aerobics (which Anthony promises to take with me), Pilates, and machines will fill my mornings. God willing, I may actually get my body back.
Of course, devoting my mornings to my body means I need to restructure my consulting hours. I’ve decided to experiment with increasing my hourly minimum from two hours to three. Most organizers have a three-hour minimum, usually four hours (or more). We’ll see how I adjust to working longer sessions. The up side is that I will only work with one client a day (instead of two), which will keep me fresh for my clients.
And I’m still working away at my third book, what I call the Tzedakah book. It is requiring a great deal of research. Bit by bit, I continue to gather information and write pages.
And I am marketing Following Raven. And I’m writing two articles for organizing newsletters. And two lectures. And three press releases for Get Organized month. (The local professional organizers have formed an informal NAPO group that we are calling H.O.P.E. – Humboldt Organizing Professionals Exchange. We are doing two projects for Get Organized month [January]. One is a radio contest; the other is a lecture series at the public library. I’m in charge of writing press releases for both activities as well as a general one on H.O.P.E.)
Did someone say something about rest?
31 October 2007
Playing the Game/Pumpkin Bread
Saturday was the annual professional organizers’ conference down in the Bay Area. While I normally dread conferences, I kinda like this one. It’s smaller than the national conference, and is attended by a number of organizers I know and like. Also, this being the San Francisco Bay Area, the flavor of organizers is more to my taste: more playful and hip.
I had put together and moderated a panel on Simple and Sustainable Organizing for this conference. The panelists discussed conscious consuming (issues to consider when making purchases), earth-friendly organizing products, recycling, and how to speak to our clients about being more “green.” We had a decent turn out, and not nearly enough time to answer questions. Given that I’m committed to living a fairly simple life – which extends to running a simple business – I was encouraged by the response to the panel. The more people living simply and consciously, the healthier the planet and its inhabitants can be.
After the conference, a few of us organizers went out for dinner. Walking back to the hotel afterward, I was talking with one of the more influential women in our industry. She commented that being focused on simplicity and environmentalism makes it hard for me to be mainstream. I responded that I don’t even try, to which she employed the Dr. Phil line of “And how’s that working for you?”
Ouch. Disapproval for not playing the game.
I told her, truthfully, that not being mainstream works fine for me. I live in a community that shares my values, and attract clients who appreciate my NOT being like all the others. I’ve had clients hire me because of the picture on my website where I’m bent over, feeding chickens. They were so relieved to find an organizer who didn’t look “professional,” i.e. citified and suited up for success.
Still, it’s lonely out here on the fringes. When asked if I’d rather “be like everyone else,” of course my answer is “no.” But it takes courage to stand firm in my difference, to be the outsider in my industry. Especially since, by normal standards (specifically, money made), I’m not “successful.” Eleven years in the business and I still have a light client load, still wonder how I’m making ends meet many months.
But money isn’t how I measure success. I’m living the life I want: waking up with no alarm clock to cuddle with purring cats and gaze out my window at trees; puttering around my beautiful little house in the mornings; having time to cook and write and read; eating well; spending time with friends and neighbors; making a real difference in people’s lives.
I’ve written before (I think) about how much joy I get, walking over to the neighbors to buy my eggs. A few weeks ago, Larry (the father) came by and insisted that we pick tomatoes before they rotted. Being good neighbors, we obliged. While filling our Farmers’ Market basket heaping with tomatoes, Larry further insisted that we pick a pumpkin from his patch. (Every year he grows a pumpkin patch that school children come to on field trips and pick pumpkins to take home.)
Today I cooked up the pumpkin. Six cups of it is in the freezer, waiting to be turned into pie for Thanksgiving (and maybe a soup sometime this fall). But some of it went into the following recipe. Which turned out pretty good, if I may say so…
By the way, you’ll notice it has wheat. The eating for my blood type (no wheat) made me feel like crap, so I stopped it some months back.
Happy Halloween!
Pumpkin-Cranberry-Pecan Bread
Combine:
2 cups flour (½ whole wheat, ½ white)
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves (in that order of emphasis)
Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and add:
2 eggs
1 cup oil
2 cups puréed pumpkin
A splash of Triple Sec (optional)
Mix quickly to combine wet and dry ingredients.
Fold in:
1 cup chopped cranberries
¼ cup raisins
¼ cup chopped pecans
Pour into bread pan (this made two loaves when I made it)
Bake at 350 for about an hour, maybe longer. (I use the top-is-cracked-and-browned cue to determine doneness. Inserting a toothpick and having it come out clean works, too.)
I had put together and moderated a panel on Simple and Sustainable Organizing for this conference. The panelists discussed conscious consuming (issues to consider when making purchases), earth-friendly organizing products, recycling, and how to speak to our clients about being more “green.” We had a decent turn out, and not nearly enough time to answer questions. Given that I’m committed to living a fairly simple life – which extends to running a simple business – I was encouraged by the response to the panel. The more people living simply and consciously, the healthier the planet and its inhabitants can be.
After the conference, a few of us organizers went out for dinner. Walking back to the hotel afterward, I was talking with one of the more influential women in our industry. She commented that being focused on simplicity and environmentalism makes it hard for me to be mainstream. I responded that I don’t even try, to which she employed the Dr. Phil line of “And how’s that working for you?”
Ouch. Disapproval for not playing the game.
I told her, truthfully, that not being mainstream works fine for me. I live in a community that shares my values, and attract clients who appreciate my NOT being like all the others. I’ve had clients hire me because of the picture on my website where I’m bent over, feeding chickens. They were so relieved to find an organizer who didn’t look “professional,” i.e. citified and suited up for success.
Still, it’s lonely out here on the fringes. When asked if I’d rather “be like everyone else,” of course my answer is “no.” But it takes courage to stand firm in my difference, to be the outsider in my industry. Especially since, by normal standards (specifically, money made), I’m not “successful.” Eleven years in the business and I still have a light client load, still wonder how I’m making ends meet many months.
But money isn’t how I measure success. I’m living the life I want: waking up with no alarm clock to cuddle with purring cats and gaze out my window at trees; puttering around my beautiful little house in the mornings; having time to cook and write and read; eating well; spending time with friends and neighbors; making a real difference in people’s lives.
I’ve written before (I think) about how much joy I get, walking over to the neighbors to buy my eggs. A few weeks ago, Larry (the father) came by and insisted that we pick tomatoes before they rotted. Being good neighbors, we obliged. While filling our Farmers’ Market basket heaping with tomatoes, Larry further insisted that we pick a pumpkin from his patch. (Every year he grows a pumpkin patch that school children come to on field trips and pick pumpkins to take home.)
Today I cooked up the pumpkin. Six cups of it is in the freezer, waiting to be turned into pie for Thanksgiving (and maybe a soup sometime this fall). But some of it went into the following recipe. Which turned out pretty good, if I may say so…
By the way, you’ll notice it has wheat. The eating for my blood type (no wheat) made me feel like crap, so I stopped it some months back.
Happy Halloween!
Pumpkin-Cranberry-Pecan Bread
Combine:
2 cups flour (½ whole wheat, ½ white)
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves (in that order of emphasis)
Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and add:
2 eggs
1 cup oil
2 cups puréed pumpkin
A splash of Triple Sec (optional)
Mix quickly to combine wet and dry ingredients.
Fold in:
1 cup chopped cranberries
¼ cup raisins
¼ cup chopped pecans
Pour into bread pan (this made two loaves when I made it)
Bake at 350 for about an hour, maybe longer. (I use the top-is-cracked-and-browned cue to determine doneness. Inserting a toothpick and having it come out clean works, too.)
22 October 2007
Thunder & Lightning & Downpours, Oh My!
While traveling from Prince Rupert down the Yellowhead Highway to the Canadian Rockies, I stopped in a public library in Prince George. A kind librarian there turned me on to Yahoo! email accounts, set me up with one, and explained that I could access my email from most public libraries. (This was almost a decade ago, remember. It was still exciting stuff back then.) The following is an email I sent about a third of the way into the journey. It is excerpted from my new book, Following Raven, Finding Ground: A Road Trip in Search of Home.
JULY 11, 1998
Thunder & Lightning & Downpours, Oh My!
Greetings, all, with a quick update from Nelson, B. C. They boot you off in 30 minutes at this branch, and the librarian is very strict – the first and only truly uptight librarian I’ve ever met. I suppose I should have compassion for her, but I feel more like challenging her, especially since she got so upset when I truthfully answered “none” as my address on the form they make me fill out, promising to be a good girl on the net. “It sounds…” and she cuts herself off. Sounds what, lady? Homeless? Uncouth? What are your assumptions? But I’m a nice girl, eh? Only felt like challenging her, didn’t push it. Changed the address from “none” to that of Kokanee Creek campground.
What a glorious, loud storm there was last night! Thunder rumbling and roaring and shaking the ground, lightning four to seven counts away, shocking the whole sky awake. I could feel the electricity vibrate up from the ground and through me. Couldn’t help but think of Zeus roaring in anger – but why do we think of these storms as angry? Yes, they feel angry, but maybe there’s another way to understand them. Ecstatic? Undeniably, raw and powerful. So alive.
Took an impulsive detour last night – 16 kilometers up a gravel, pitted, bouldery sort of road – just to see what was at the end. At the end was a lake and a trailhead, and a sign with a funny, cartoon drawing of a porcupine that warned us that critters will eat your tires, brake linings, etc., and to protect your vehicle with chicken wire. “We are not joking,” concluded the sign. And they weren’t. The cars parked there were indeed surrounded by chicken wire. The things I learn… .
I love Canada, especially the road signs. One, warning of wildlife (animaux sauvages) in the vicinity, is a large, white cutout of an antlered wapiti (elk), with a neon-orange round eye. The picture for falling rock took me a moment to decipher – it looked like a bear’s paw at first. And the one for trucks entering the roadway looks like the truck is going to run smack into the road: Kaboom!
On the way here from Fernie, via Cranbrook and Creston, is a kitschy place called The Glass House. A guy in the funeral trade (trading corpses for what?) decided to build a whimsical home for himself and the missus out of empty, sealed embalming-fluid bottles. It’s actually quite livable and sweet: round rooms. He had so much fun, he kept building, mostly little round watchtowers, an arched bridge, what-have-you. Then came the landscaping. (Mind, all this is built on bedrock along the shores of Kootenay Lake – an idyllic setting). The waterwheel isn’t bad, but all the dwarves, Snow White, deer, etc. get a bit too cute. Still, it’s quite charming and worth the five bucks for a tour (given by his sweet, early-20s granddaughter). Beat the heck out of the wildlife museum that I stopped in (seduced by the roadway signs), which was a morose collection of stuffed mammals and live pheasants (gorgeous plumes on those caged birds).
Some moments, being on the road is fabulous: driving along two-lane, line-less highways, blasting the Rolling Stones’ “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Other times, I long for a stable roof over my head, particularly when it comes to fixing myself a meal. God, I’d love to have access to an oven just to bake myself a spanakopita, or maybe a cobbler, or… . Cooking in the rain sucks when you don’t have adequate shelter, and I don’t even try. I’m spending far more than budgeted on eating out. (What else is new?) On the other hand, I prefer bathing in the eddy of a fast-flowing creek to a bathtub any day, and my hair is so much softer when rinsed regularly with creek water. True, hot running water is one of our finer inventions, but those creeks sure are fine, too.
Time’s up. I’ll keep y’all posted as I can. My love to everyone.
JULY 11, 1998
Thunder & Lightning & Downpours, Oh My!
Greetings, all, with a quick update from Nelson, B. C. They boot you off in 30 minutes at this branch, and the librarian is very strict – the first and only truly uptight librarian I’ve ever met. I suppose I should have compassion for her, but I feel more like challenging her, especially since she got so upset when I truthfully answered “none” as my address on the form they make me fill out, promising to be a good girl on the net. “It sounds…” and she cuts herself off. Sounds what, lady? Homeless? Uncouth? What are your assumptions? But I’m a nice girl, eh? Only felt like challenging her, didn’t push it. Changed the address from “none” to that of Kokanee Creek campground.
What a glorious, loud storm there was last night! Thunder rumbling and roaring and shaking the ground, lightning four to seven counts away, shocking the whole sky awake. I could feel the electricity vibrate up from the ground and through me. Couldn’t help but think of Zeus roaring in anger – but why do we think of these storms as angry? Yes, they feel angry, but maybe there’s another way to understand them. Ecstatic? Undeniably, raw and powerful. So alive.
Took an impulsive detour last night – 16 kilometers up a gravel, pitted, bouldery sort of road – just to see what was at the end. At the end was a lake and a trailhead, and a sign with a funny, cartoon drawing of a porcupine that warned us that critters will eat your tires, brake linings, etc., and to protect your vehicle with chicken wire. “We are not joking,” concluded the sign. And they weren’t. The cars parked there were indeed surrounded by chicken wire. The things I learn… .
I love Canada, especially the road signs. One, warning of wildlife (animaux sauvages) in the vicinity, is a large, white cutout of an antlered wapiti (elk), with a neon-orange round eye. The picture for falling rock took me a moment to decipher – it looked like a bear’s paw at first. And the one for trucks entering the roadway looks like the truck is going to run smack into the road: Kaboom!
On the way here from Fernie, via Cranbrook and Creston, is a kitschy place called The Glass House. A guy in the funeral trade (trading corpses for what?) decided to build a whimsical home for himself and the missus out of empty, sealed embalming-fluid bottles. It’s actually quite livable and sweet: round rooms. He had so much fun, he kept building, mostly little round watchtowers, an arched bridge, what-have-you. Then came the landscaping. (Mind, all this is built on bedrock along the shores of Kootenay Lake – an idyllic setting). The waterwheel isn’t bad, but all the dwarves, Snow White, deer, etc. get a bit too cute. Still, it’s quite charming and worth the five bucks for a tour (given by his sweet, early-20s granddaughter). Beat the heck out of the wildlife museum that I stopped in (seduced by the roadway signs), which was a morose collection of stuffed mammals and live pheasants (gorgeous plumes on those caged birds).
Some moments, being on the road is fabulous: driving along two-lane, line-less highways, blasting the Rolling Stones’ “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Other times, I long for a stable roof over my head, particularly when it comes to fixing myself a meal. God, I’d love to have access to an oven just to bake myself a spanakopita, or maybe a cobbler, or… . Cooking in the rain sucks when you don’t have adequate shelter, and I don’t even try. I’m spending far more than budgeted on eating out. (What else is new?) On the other hand, I prefer bathing in the eddy of a fast-flowing creek to a bathtub any day, and my hair is so much softer when rinsed regularly with creek water. True, hot running water is one of our finer inventions, but those creeks sure are fine, too.
Time’s up. I’ll keep y’all posted as I can. My love to everyone.
16 October 2007
Roaming Home
I come from a family of wanderers.
My father was born in Jugoslavia, the only son of parents whose own parents had migrated from Spain, through Hungary to Belgrade. After WWII, which he spent as a child in hiding (ages 7 to 11) with his mother’s sister (who had married a Greek Orthodox and converted) he moved to Switzerland. Eventually, his mother’s brother got passage to the States, and brought my by-then-teenaged father over. After finishing high school in New York, he took the Greyhound to Berkeley. Many years later, after 13 years and 3 kids with my mom, he moved to Oregon, then to Ottawa. Eventually he relinquished his U.S. citizenship and became Canadian. These days he lives in Victoria. (You won’t hear me complaining about visiting him there!)
My sister, Jessica, spent many years living with our father in Ottawa, alternating lives between Canada’s capital and our rustic maternal home in the redwood hippie refuge, Camp Meeker. At one point, Jessica lived in western B.C. Eventually she met Gavin (a fellow fiddler), married him, and followed him to New Zealand. They have since settled on his family’s farm in Scotland, where they are raising my two nieces (and organic vegetables and chickens).
Tristan, my brilliant-artist brother, is also in Europe, having lived in Germany, Italy, and now Denmark. (He’s another topic altogether. Someday I’ll write about him.)
Relatively speaking, Mom was a stick-in-the-mud. She was a native Californian – first generation, both her parents having immigrated from Eastern European shtetls – and never really relocated out of the state.
I guess I haven’t gone very far, either, although I wandered all around our country and parts of Canada before deciding that Humboldt County was where I wanted to stay. I find it ironic that, given that my siblings and I are first generation Americans (second on Mom’s side), I’m the only sibling left on this continent, and the only immediate family member left in the country.
But this is home for me. Sometimes I’m tempted to move further north, deeper into the Pacific Northwest. There are parts of Washington that I crave, particularly along the Olympic Peninsula. The thought of starting all over again – building new friendships, recreating my business from scratch – stops me from moving. As does the thought of leaving the life I’ve built here.
Besides, this is my cats’ home. They have 3 acres to patrol, and they love every inch of it. Although, come to think of it, even my cats are wanderers. Each of them appeared in my life from whereabouts unknown. Ochosi was abandoned at a campground in Trinity County. Jules showed up mewing his little kitten heart out one August night around 10:00. Zachy limped onto my porch with a broken leg two autumns ago. And Sam… well, no one really knows where Sam came from. He was here when I bought the place 7 years ago.
My father was born in Jugoslavia, the only son of parents whose own parents had migrated from Spain, through Hungary to Belgrade. After WWII, which he spent as a child in hiding (ages 7 to 11) with his mother’s sister (who had married a Greek Orthodox and converted) he moved to Switzerland. Eventually, his mother’s brother got passage to the States, and brought my by-then-teenaged father over. After finishing high school in New York, he took the Greyhound to Berkeley. Many years later, after 13 years and 3 kids with my mom, he moved to Oregon, then to Ottawa. Eventually he relinquished his U.S. citizenship and became Canadian. These days he lives in Victoria. (You won’t hear me complaining about visiting him there!)
My sister, Jessica, spent many years living with our father in Ottawa, alternating lives between Canada’s capital and our rustic maternal home in the redwood hippie refuge, Camp Meeker. At one point, Jessica lived in western B.C. Eventually she met Gavin (a fellow fiddler), married him, and followed him to New Zealand. They have since settled on his family’s farm in Scotland, where they are raising my two nieces (and organic vegetables and chickens).
Tristan, my brilliant-artist brother, is also in Europe, having lived in Germany, Italy, and now Denmark. (He’s another topic altogether. Someday I’ll write about him.)
Relatively speaking, Mom was a stick-in-the-mud. She was a native Californian – first generation, both her parents having immigrated from Eastern European shtetls – and never really relocated out of the state.
I guess I haven’t gone very far, either, although I wandered all around our country and parts of Canada before deciding that Humboldt County was where I wanted to stay. I find it ironic that, given that my siblings and I are first generation Americans (second on Mom’s side), I’m the only sibling left on this continent, and the only immediate family member left in the country.
But this is home for me. Sometimes I’m tempted to move further north, deeper into the Pacific Northwest. There are parts of Washington that I crave, particularly along the Olympic Peninsula. The thought of starting all over again – building new friendships, recreating my business from scratch – stops me from moving. As does the thought of leaving the life I’ve built here.
Besides, this is my cats’ home. They have 3 acres to patrol, and they love every inch of it. Although, come to think of it, even my cats are wanderers. Each of them appeared in my life from whereabouts unknown. Ochosi was abandoned at a campground in Trinity County. Jules showed up mewing his little kitten heart out one August night around 10:00. Zachy limped onto my porch with a broken leg two autumns ago. And Sam… well, no one really knows where Sam came from. He was here when I bought the place 7 years ago.
It's a Contest!
Following Raven, Finding Ground: A Road Trip in Search of Home is here!
Told through journal entries, dreams, and emailed travelogues – with an occasional recipe tossed in – this heartwarming story of one woman’s midlife search for Home winds through terrain both personal and public. From the Pacific Northwest to the Canadian Rockies, from Yellowstone to Maine and west again through Santa Fe, Claire describes the inner and outer landscapes with poetic honesty and subtle humor. This book is a beacon to all who step into uncertainty in search of where they belong.
Freelance writer and poet Carla Baku writes:
Joseph Campbell once said that there are really only two stories: A hero sets out on a journey and A stranger comes to town. Claire Josefine tells both stories in this slender in-search-of odyssey. Claire’s keen eye for the beauty of small things in the natural world and her willingness to disclose doubts, fears, joys, and humble triumphs along the way, leaves the reader with the distinct sensation of having come along on her solitary journey. This lovely little read will have you thinking about what “home” really means. Curl up and enjoy a ramble from the comfort of your corner of the world.
To celebrate, Winter’s Daughter Press is running a contest. Write an essay (maximum 500 words) on how you found your home town and why you chose to stay there. Submit your essay to Winter’s Daughter Press at organized@humboldt1.com. The winner’s essay will be “published” on this blog, and the winner will receive a signed copy of Following Raven, Finding Ground: A Road Trip in Search of Home. Entries must be received by November 1, 2007. (All submissions retain their copyrights.)
P.S. – Please let everyone you know about this contest. The more entries, the more interesting the results!
Told through journal entries, dreams, and emailed travelogues – with an occasional recipe tossed in – this heartwarming story of one woman’s midlife search for Home winds through terrain both personal and public. From the Pacific Northwest to the Canadian Rockies, from Yellowstone to Maine and west again through Santa Fe, Claire describes the inner and outer landscapes with poetic honesty and subtle humor. This book is a beacon to all who step into uncertainty in search of where they belong.
Freelance writer and poet Carla Baku writes:
Joseph Campbell once said that there are really only two stories: A hero sets out on a journey and A stranger comes to town. Claire Josefine tells both stories in this slender in-search-of odyssey. Claire’s keen eye for the beauty of small things in the natural world and her willingness to disclose doubts, fears, joys, and humble triumphs along the way, leaves the reader with the distinct sensation of having come along on her solitary journey. This lovely little read will have you thinking about what “home” really means. Curl up and enjoy a ramble from the comfort of your corner of the world.
To celebrate, Winter’s Daughter Press is running a contest. Write an essay (maximum 500 words) on how you found your home town and why you chose to stay there. Submit your essay to Winter’s Daughter Press at organized@humboldt1.com. The winner’s essay will be “published” on this blog, and the winner will receive a signed copy of Following Raven, Finding Ground: A Road Trip in Search of Home. Entries must be received by November 1, 2007. (All submissions retain their copyrights.)
P.S. – Please let everyone you know about this contest. The more entries, the more interesting the results!
12 October 2007
Home?
Nine years ago, I became voluntarily homeless and hit the road, traveling 15,000 miles solo across 29 states and 4 provinces, searching for what I took to calling “Capital-H Home.” My new book, Following Raven, Finding Ground: A Road Trip in Search of Home, is the story of this journey, told through journal entries, dreams, and letters I wrote along the way.
But what is Home? While on the road, having hit an emotional bottom, I posed this question to my family and friends. Mostly they responded with well-worn clichés: that home is inside of you, or home is where you make it. Yes, I answered, but how do you know where you want to make it? Eventually I defined my own criteria – a cool, coastally-influenced climate along the Pacific Northwest with people of like mind (left-leaning, spiritual, environmentalists) and an artsy culture, not too crowded, where people have a sense of community and I can see the stars at night.
I’ve found that place – have settled down on 3 acres, spent 8 years with one guy (the longest I’ve ever been with a sweetie), and built my business and reputation within the community. By all appearances, I’ve done a very good job of finding, and creating, Home.
And yet.
And yet, I think there is another layer of Home that I’ve never found, and for this I feel sorrow.
Home is place and community and friendships – yes. But I think Home is also the deep connection, the intimacy of sharing one’s life with a best-est friend, with a mate, with children. None of which I’ve ever managed to create in my life. Yes, I have a few good friends (most of whom live at least 200 miles away), lots of friendly acquaintances, and I have my sweetie. But I long for a bosom buddy, a sister – a best-est girlfriend. I’ve never had one. (A psychic once told me that my best friend wasn’t in body this time around.) And I long for a husband, a partner and mate, which my sweetie cannot be for me. (As for children – well, I do prefer cats … )
I imagine that the home we find in deep relationship soothes the loneliness of life, that loneliness that makes me want to cry wordless tears, wishing someone in my world understood and would just hold me and stroke my hair for a while until the lonely blues passed and I could return to being the strong, competent, (etc. etc.) woman people know me to be.
I’ve had a recurring dream for 25 years now, the basic theme of which is this: I find myself living at either my mother’s house or my old apartment in Oakland (it differs from dream to dream), aware that I have a life and home of my own somewhere else, but unable to remember where that is. Recently, in the dream I am able to vaguely recall that I have a place in the country someplace north, but that it’s been a while since I’ve been home and I’m not sure what condition it’s in or even really where it is. For 25 years, I’ve felt lost and confused, trying to remember something and being unable to. But what am I unable to remember, to find? What is this home that I’ve been dreaming of for so many years?
Ideas are welcomed…
But what is Home? While on the road, having hit an emotional bottom, I posed this question to my family and friends. Mostly they responded with well-worn clichés: that home is inside of you, or home is where you make it. Yes, I answered, but how do you know where you want to make it? Eventually I defined my own criteria – a cool, coastally-influenced climate along the Pacific Northwest with people of like mind (left-leaning, spiritual, environmentalists) and an artsy culture, not too crowded, where people have a sense of community and I can see the stars at night.
I’ve found that place – have settled down on 3 acres, spent 8 years with one guy (the longest I’ve ever been with a sweetie), and built my business and reputation within the community. By all appearances, I’ve done a very good job of finding, and creating, Home.
And yet.
And yet, I think there is another layer of Home that I’ve never found, and for this I feel sorrow.
Home is place and community and friendships – yes. But I think Home is also the deep connection, the intimacy of sharing one’s life with a best-est friend, with a mate, with children. None of which I’ve ever managed to create in my life. Yes, I have a few good friends (most of whom live at least 200 miles away), lots of friendly acquaintances, and I have my sweetie. But I long for a bosom buddy, a sister – a best-est girlfriend. I’ve never had one. (A psychic once told me that my best friend wasn’t in body this time around.) And I long for a husband, a partner and mate, which my sweetie cannot be for me. (As for children – well, I do prefer cats … )
I imagine that the home we find in deep relationship soothes the loneliness of life, that loneliness that makes me want to cry wordless tears, wishing someone in my world understood and would just hold me and stroke my hair for a while until the lonely blues passed and I could return to being the strong, competent, (etc. etc.) woman people know me to be.
I’ve had a recurring dream for 25 years now, the basic theme of which is this: I find myself living at either my mother’s house or my old apartment in Oakland (it differs from dream to dream), aware that I have a life and home of my own somewhere else, but unable to remember where that is. Recently, in the dream I am able to vaguely recall that I have a place in the country someplace north, but that it’s been a while since I’ve been home and I’m not sure what condition it’s in or even really where it is. For 25 years, I’ve felt lost and confused, trying to remember something and being unable to. But what am I unable to remember, to find? What is this home that I’ve been dreaming of for so many years?
Ideas are welcomed…
08 July 2007
The Personal IS Political
Back in 1974, as a high school junior, I had to research and write a term paper for my English class. I chose to investigate comprehensive medical care, and my Canadian father helped by mailing envelopes bursting with information on Canada’s medical system. I also learned about England’s system. And I read story after scary story about the abuses of medicine for profit, e.g. doctors performing unnecessary hysterectomies on poor women of color. I became 100% convinced: we needed to remove the profit motive from medicine.
Call me old-fashioned; call me naïve -- I probably am. But naïveté speaks of a good heart, and I’d rather be hopeful than cynical (although cynical comes pretty easy these days). I believe that government’s function is to provide for the general welfare of its populace, that we elect representatives to take on the job of seeing to those needs that affect us all. Health care affects us all. And the cost of health care has become unbearable.
Count me among the millions of America’s uninsured citizens. As a self-employed single woman, I cannot begin to afford medical insurance. Up until now, I’ve found my way around this obstacle; I live a reasonably healthy lifestyle, and get what medical care I need through the local health clinic at sliding-scale fees. Even paying cash for dentists and eye care, I spend far less than I would on private-pay health insurance. By the graces of good health and state-funded health programs, I scrape by.
Until yesterday, when I went to the pharmacy. Ah, the heartbreak of psoriasis; a plague on my skin for pushing 30 years now. The only thing I’ve ever found to help was a synthetic Vitamin D brand-named Dovonex, sold through Bristol-Myers. For many years, Dovonex was available through a program that some pharmaceutical companies provide for those of us floating in limbo: too poor for health insurance and too wealthy for public assistance. But a couple of years ago, Bristol-Myers discontinued offering Dovonex this way. I dug deep and paid for a couple of bottles of scalp solution, which I’ve eked out over time, along with the cream I still had from the “free” days. But my supply is running low, so my doctor called in a new prescription for me. Yesterday I went to pick up the drugs, only to learn that I couldn’t afford them. They had gone up in price to over $200 EACH, five times more than I had anticipated, based on my (sketchy) memory. Ouch. I told the pharmacy clerk to restock the meds; I will have to do without them. (I also had the small-town joy of saying this in front of a former client, who was standing at the counter at the time.)
There is no good reason that this product, which has been out for years and would have recouped its research-and-development costs long ago, should cost so much. Except for greed. I doubt the higher echelon of Bristol-Myers ever has to worry about how to pay for their medicine, let alone how to afford medical insurance. (In his 5/19 review of Sicko in Time, Richard Corliss notes that “HMOs and pharmaceutical companies have made billions while Americans have health care below the standard of other industrialized countries, and pay more for it.”) So here’s my idealism again: tax the rich. Skim the financial cream off the obscene excesses of the rich – those who keep getting richer while the poor get poorer – and pool the money into funds that provide for the general well-being of all, including comprehensive medical care. It’s a bloody sin that the executives of pharmaceutical companies are swimming in wealth while I (and people like me) can’t afford medicine.
I realize that this is a simplistic answer to a complicated problem, and that creating a government-funded medical insurance program that works is challenging. Hopefully the Democrats will manage to institute a sensible and successful program. (Okay, I’m being a dreamer again.) All I know is that we need comprehensive medical care. Of course, after presenting my mounds of research and resulting thesis to this effect years ago (as the oral presentation part of my project), Mrs. Hastings’ response was a snide “You realize you’re proposing socialism, don’t you?”
I never wrote the paper.
Call me old-fashioned; call me naïve -- I probably am. But naïveté speaks of a good heart, and I’d rather be hopeful than cynical (although cynical comes pretty easy these days). I believe that government’s function is to provide for the general welfare of its populace, that we elect representatives to take on the job of seeing to those needs that affect us all. Health care affects us all. And the cost of health care has become unbearable.
Count me among the millions of America’s uninsured citizens. As a self-employed single woman, I cannot begin to afford medical insurance. Up until now, I’ve found my way around this obstacle; I live a reasonably healthy lifestyle, and get what medical care I need through the local health clinic at sliding-scale fees. Even paying cash for dentists and eye care, I spend far less than I would on private-pay health insurance. By the graces of good health and state-funded health programs, I scrape by.
Until yesterday, when I went to the pharmacy. Ah, the heartbreak of psoriasis; a plague on my skin for pushing 30 years now. The only thing I’ve ever found to help was a synthetic Vitamin D brand-named Dovonex, sold through Bristol-Myers. For many years, Dovonex was available through a program that some pharmaceutical companies provide for those of us floating in limbo: too poor for health insurance and too wealthy for public assistance. But a couple of years ago, Bristol-Myers discontinued offering Dovonex this way. I dug deep and paid for a couple of bottles of scalp solution, which I’ve eked out over time, along with the cream I still had from the “free” days. But my supply is running low, so my doctor called in a new prescription for me. Yesterday I went to pick up the drugs, only to learn that I couldn’t afford them. They had gone up in price to over $200 EACH, five times more than I had anticipated, based on my (sketchy) memory. Ouch. I told the pharmacy clerk to restock the meds; I will have to do without them. (I also had the small-town joy of saying this in front of a former client, who was standing at the counter at the time.)
There is no good reason that this product, which has been out for years and would have recouped its research-and-development costs long ago, should cost so much. Except for greed. I doubt the higher echelon of Bristol-Myers ever has to worry about how to pay for their medicine, let alone how to afford medical insurance. (In his 5/19 review of Sicko in Time, Richard Corliss notes that “HMOs and pharmaceutical companies have made billions while Americans have health care below the standard of other industrialized countries, and pay more for it.”) So here’s my idealism again: tax the rich. Skim the financial cream off the obscene excesses of the rich – those who keep getting richer while the poor get poorer – and pool the money into funds that provide for the general well-being of all, including comprehensive medical care. It’s a bloody sin that the executives of pharmaceutical companies are swimming in wealth while I (and people like me) can’t afford medicine.
I realize that this is a simplistic answer to a complicated problem, and that creating a government-funded medical insurance program that works is challenging. Hopefully the Democrats will manage to institute a sensible and successful program. (Okay, I’m being a dreamer again.) All I know is that we need comprehensive medical care. Of course, after presenting my mounds of research and resulting thesis to this effect years ago (as the oral presentation part of my project), Mrs. Hastings’ response was a snide “You realize you’re proposing socialism, don’t you?”
I never wrote the paper.
17 June 2007
Summer and Censorship
9:15 p.m. and the western sky is just now putting on its evening show: tangerine mists, swooping barn swallows, ivory sliver moon, shining first star. Two deer nibble their way through the back field, munching blackberry leaves and rye grass. One’s a young buck balancing two thick, fuzzy points atop his skull; the other’s a young ‘un, barely tall enough to be seen among the unmowed pasture grass.
Summer’s here! Maybe not officially, not quite yet. But Saturday Farmers’ Market laid proof to anyone’s doubts. The farmers’ tables were mounted with early summer’s finest – young zukes, broccoli shoots, delicate peas, French filet beans, sweet lettuce; cauliflower and spinach; artichokes; herbs; green onions; fresh garlic; and fruit. Oh heaven, there is nothing I like better than fresh organic cherries, and they are finally (and briefly) at market! Along with the first raspberries, and strawberries.
Soon to come: white peaches… and hay bales. Farmer John should be mowing within the next few weeks. And then, once the bales are moved to the barn, the girls will cross the river (which is down to a trickling creek) and graze outside my kitchen window.
______________________________
I’ve been working on production for my next book. The e-book should be available by the end of July, and I hope to have it in print by September. It’s a road-trip book, about my 3-and-a-half month, 15,000-mile journey in 1998, trying to find where I wanted to put down roots. (It’s called Following Raven, Finding Ground: A Road Trip in Search of Home.)
Anyway, as research for my book, I checked out a couple of road trip books from my local library. And I discovered that there is something that pisses me off as much as people littering. Someone else checked out both of these books before me, and used white-out to obliterate all the “obscene” words in both books. Grrrrrr…
______________________________
Several readers have expressed concern for Steve and Suzanne, whose wife/mother died in the car accident in April. They both seem to be pulling through okay. I was at a barbeque at their house yesterday. Steve clearly has a support network of good friends and family. And Suzanne appears to have blossomed; she is much more confident and outgoing than she used to be. Still, your prayers are appreciated.
______________________________
Veggie Melt
This is my bachelorette summer standby.
Sautee:
Half of one onion, chopped
1 to 2 cloves of garlic, minced
3 to 4 mushrooms, sliced
1 medium sized zucchini, sliced thin
Season with black pepper and thyme.
When the veggies are gently browned, you can add a sliced or chopped tomato (or not, as you wish) and cook it a bit.
Cover the veggies, still in the skillet, with about a half cup of grated cheese. My preference is sharp cheddar, but a fontina or gouda could be nice, too.
Cover the skillet and remove from heat. When the cheese has melted, spoon everything onto toast and eat as an open-faced sandwich, or serve with rice.
Summer’s here! Maybe not officially, not quite yet. But Saturday Farmers’ Market laid proof to anyone’s doubts. The farmers’ tables were mounted with early summer’s finest – young zukes, broccoli shoots, delicate peas, French filet beans, sweet lettuce; cauliflower and spinach; artichokes; herbs; green onions; fresh garlic; and fruit. Oh heaven, there is nothing I like better than fresh organic cherries, and they are finally (and briefly) at market! Along with the first raspberries, and strawberries.
Soon to come: white peaches… and hay bales. Farmer John should be mowing within the next few weeks. And then, once the bales are moved to the barn, the girls will cross the river (which is down to a trickling creek) and graze outside my kitchen window.
______________________________
I’ve been working on production for my next book. The e-book should be available by the end of July, and I hope to have it in print by September. It’s a road-trip book, about my 3-and-a-half month, 15,000-mile journey in 1998, trying to find where I wanted to put down roots. (It’s called Following Raven, Finding Ground: A Road Trip in Search of Home.)
Anyway, as research for my book, I checked out a couple of road trip books from my local library. And I discovered that there is something that pisses me off as much as people littering. Someone else checked out both of these books before me, and used white-out to obliterate all the “obscene” words in both books. Grrrrrr…
______________________________
Several readers have expressed concern for Steve and Suzanne, whose wife/mother died in the car accident in April. They both seem to be pulling through okay. I was at a barbeque at their house yesterday. Steve clearly has a support network of good friends and family. And Suzanne appears to have blossomed; she is much more confident and outgoing than she used to be. Still, your prayers are appreciated.
______________________________
Veggie Melt
This is my bachelorette summer standby.
Sautee:
Half of one onion, chopped
1 to 2 cloves of garlic, minced
3 to 4 mushrooms, sliced
1 medium sized zucchini, sliced thin
Season with black pepper and thyme.
When the veggies are gently browned, you can add a sliced or chopped tomato (or not, as you wish) and cook it a bit.
Cover the veggies, still in the skillet, with about a half cup of grated cheese. My preference is sharp cheddar, but a fontina or gouda could be nice, too.
Cover the skillet and remove from heat. When the cheese has melted, spoon everything onto toast and eat as an open-faced sandwich, or serve with rice.
07 May 2007
Kindness for Strangers
Peggy drives for Oregon Coachways, which has the bus contract with Amtrak between Eugene and Astoria. Peggy's gregarious -- clearly likes people, likes driving, likes her job. Peggy also has decided to recycle our trash, and asks that we put all our recyclables in the bag she's provided so that she can take them home and sort them for us. And Peggy has a sense of humor. "I can't make you recycle, but if you don't ... well, narny, narny!"
After deboarding, I wait to thank her, wait while another woman praises her, itemizing Peggy's attributes, then asks to place a blue ribbon overe her heart. The ribbon proclaims, "Who I am is making a difference."
Ray works for Provco, weed-whacking 10-foot perimeters around utility poles. His back aches by the end of the day, especially this time of year when the grass is tall from growing all winter and hasn't been cut back yet.
Ray and I are talking about Highway 299 and Carol's accident. He needs to drive 299 over to Redding on Wednesday morning to take a 7:00 a.m. test. He wanted to take Tuesday off, get some rest before heading over the mountain, but his boss has him scheduled for a 10-hour day. The test -- for his pest-application permit renewal -- is needed for work; without it, his pay is lowered. But he is required to pay for the test and the travel to take it out of his pocket. He has been unable to find a babysitter for his daughter, so he'll be driving 299 at 3:00 a.m. This is what I call a raw deal. (Actually, I think i said something about capitalist pigs...)
Ray has tatoos. One forearm is for his grandpa, the other for his grandma. Each bicep is decorated with a daughter's name in elaborate script. His fiancee's name is written across the back of his neck. (Better marry her!) The abstracts on the back of both arms are "from when I was a bad boy." He's been a good boy for 3 years, as of the day before we're talking.
I enjoy talking with Ray. He's kind, considerate, hardworking, plain spoken, honest. So i ask for his supervisor's phone number, tell him I'm going to tell her so. He beams. She's ecstatic, surprised and delighted to be hearing good news. It's rare that anyone calls with a compliment.
My point? Each of us can take one moment to acknowledge the good we see in each other. One woman I know claims that the best gift we can give is to be happy to see each other. Certainly a sincere smile spreads joy to all who receive it. Whether it's a ribbon, a phone call, a compliment, or a smile, we all can -- and do -- make a difference.
After deboarding, I wait to thank her, wait while another woman praises her, itemizing Peggy's attributes, then asks to place a blue ribbon overe her heart. The ribbon proclaims, "Who I am is making a difference."
Ray works for Provco, weed-whacking 10-foot perimeters around utility poles. His back aches by the end of the day, especially this time of year when the grass is tall from growing all winter and hasn't been cut back yet.
Ray and I are talking about Highway 299 and Carol's accident. He needs to drive 299 over to Redding on Wednesday morning to take a 7:00 a.m. test. He wanted to take Tuesday off, get some rest before heading over the mountain, but his boss has him scheduled for a 10-hour day. The test -- for his pest-application permit renewal -- is needed for work; without it, his pay is lowered. But he is required to pay for the test and the travel to take it out of his pocket. He has been unable to find a babysitter for his daughter, so he'll be driving 299 at 3:00 a.m. This is what I call a raw deal. (Actually, I think i said something about capitalist pigs...)
Ray has tatoos. One forearm is for his grandpa, the other for his grandma. Each bicep is decorated with a daughter's name in elaborate script. His fiancee's name is written across the back of his neck. (Better marry her!) The abstracts on the back of both arms are "from when I was a bad boy." He's been a good boy for 3 years, as of the day before we're talking.
I enjoy talking with Ray. He's kind, considerate, hardworking, plain spoken, honest. So i ask for his supervisor's phone number, tell him I'm going to tell her so. He beams. She's ecstatic, surprised and delighted to be hearing good news. It's rare that anyone calls with a compliment.
My point? Each of us can take one moment to acknowledge the good we see in each other. One woman I know claims that the best gift we can give is to be happy to see each other. Certainly a sincere smile spreads joy to all who receive it. Whether it's a ribbon, a phone call, a compliment, or a smile, we all can -- and do -- make a difference.
26 April 2007
Delivering the News
9:30 Sunday night; a knock at the door. “Who’s there?” I call cautiously.
“Police.”
Hoping that his response is true (I live alone), I open the door a crack. An attractive man is standing at my door, looking at his notes.
“Do you know where 7465 is?” he asks, adding my neighbor’s last name. His badge reads “Coroner.”
Coroner. Wait. “Did someone die?”
“Yes.” And he names the woman across the street. Did I know her? Yes. Would I come with him while he breaks the news? “It’s easier on the family if someone they know is there when they hear it.” Okay.
On the ride over (it’s up a drive that’s hard to find for the first time in the dark), I tell him a bit about the woman and family, and he tells me what happened. Evidently she failed to negotiate a curve on 299, drove over the bank and died.
Gone. One moment here, then not.
The lights are on in the open garage, so I call. “Steve? Steve?” He comes out of the house, followed by his 16-year-old daughter, Suzanne.
“Steve, this is Frank Yaeger. He came to my house looking for you.”
Frank speaks. “Carol’s been in an accident. She’s dead.”
And Steve crumbles, catches himself on a nearby sawhorse, clings to it for support. Suzanne stands within hearing distance at the deck’s edge, still as a statue. Steve manages to bark out a few questions, stunned, shocked. How did this happen. When did this happen. Were there witnesses. Where is she. Frank kindly answers each matter-of-factly, then goes to his truck to get the phone number of the investigating police officer.
I stand helpless, witnessing, not knowing what to do, wanting to cry, too. Because now Steve and Suzanne are sobbing, holding each other. You couldn’t write a more moving scene if you tried.
And this is the crux of my story. Their story is the sudden loss of a loved one – I’m only a bit player in their drama, a one-line extra during the Delivering the News scene.
And yet, I can’t shake the trauma. Seeing Steve’s face, knowing how close they all were. (Even at 16, Suzanne was always hanging on her mother’s arm, cuddling up to her.) I keep seeing Carol, alive and happy – always cheerful and generous. How can Carol be gone? I feel like I’ve woken up in an alternate universe, a nightmarish mimicry of my normal life. And if I’m feeling this way, I can only imagine how Carol’s family feels.
Mostly, though, I feel powerless to relieve their pain. Because I had to leave for a business trip on Tuesday morning, (presenting at the national organizers’ conference) and because I have no cultural training on how to deal with death.
Turns out I’m not alone. Speaking with my neighbors (the coroner said I should let them know), we all feel helpless. What should we do? Seems to me, when we lived in communities – small towns, churches – the women moved naturally into proper action. One would’ve put on a pot of coffee, another would’ve picked up the phone. Casseroles would arrive, the pastor would be called… We’d know who the pastor was, for Christ’s sake.
I left them a card and told them when I’d be away, and that Melinda and I both had keys to their house and could do cat and chicken care if they needed. Teresa made a stroganoff to take to them. And Pam called a friend who attends their old church, found out when and where the funeral will be and disseminated the information among the neighbors. But there should be more we can do, shouldn’t there? Something we can do to hold Steve and Suzanne through their pain?
As I drove off Tuesday morning, I looked up at their house. It was a perfect morning: clear blue skies, fresh green pastures, everything in flower – heaven on earth. Steve and Suzanne sat silently side-by-side at the end of their porch, staring across the valley. Their grief was palpable; it slammed into my heart.
In The Mermaid Chair, Sue Monk Kidd writes, “There’s release in knowing the truth no matter how anguishing it is. You come finally to the irreducible thing, and there’s nothing left to do but pick it up and hold it. Then, at least, you can enter the severe mercy of acceptance.”
Carol’s gone.
“Police.”
Hoping that his response is true (I live alone), I open the door a crack. An attractive man is standing at my door, looking at his notes.
“Do you know where 7465 is?” he asks, adding my neighbor’s last name. His badge reads “Coroner.”
Coroner. Wait. “Did someone die?”
“Yes.” And he names the woman across the street. Did I know her? Yes. Would I come with him while he breaks the news? “It’s easier on the family if someone they know is there when they hear it.” Okay.
On the ride over (it’s up a drive that’s hard to find for the first time in the dark), I tell him a bit about the woman and family, and he tells me what happened. Evidently she failed to negotiate a curve on 299, drove over the bank and died.
Gone. One moment here, then not.
The lights are on in the open garage, so I call. “Steve? Steve?” He comes out of the house, followed by his 16-year-old daughter, Suzanne.
“Steve, this is Frank Yaeger. He came to my house looking for you.”
Frank speaks. “Carol’s been in an accident. She’s dead.”
And Steve crumbles, catches himself on a nearby sawhorse, clings to it for support. Suzanne stands within hearing distance at the deck’s edge, still as a statue. Steve manages to bark out a few questions, stunned, shocked. How did this happen. When did this happen. Were there witnesses. Where is she. Frank kindly answers each matter-of-factly, then goes to his truck to get the phone number of the investigating police officer.
I stand helpless, witnessing, not knowing what to do, wanting to cry, too. Because now Steve and Suzanne are sobbing, holding each other. You couldn’t write a more moving scene if you tried.
And this is the crux of my story. Their story is the sudden loss of a loved one – I’m only a bit player in their drama, a one-line extra during the Delivering the News scene.
And yet, I can’t shake the trauma. Seeing Steve’s face, knowing how close they all were. (Even at 16, Suzanne was always hanging on her mother’s arm, cuddling up to her.) I keep seeing Carol, alive and happy – always cheerful and generous. How can Carol be gone? I feel like I’ve woken up in an alternate universe, a nightmarish mimicry of my normal life. And if I’m feeling this way, I can only imagine how Carol’s family feels.
Mostly, though, I feel powerless to relieve their pain. Because I had to leave for a business trip on Tuesday morning, (presenting at the national organizers’ conference) and because I have no cultural training on how to deal with death.
Turns out I’m not alone. Speaking with my neighbors (the coroner said I should let them know), we all feel helpless. What should we do? Seems to me, when we lived in communities – small towns, churches – the women moved naturally into proper action. One would’ve put on a pot of coffee, another would’ve picked up the phone. Casseroles would arrive, the pastor would be called… We’d know who the pastor was, for Christ’s sake.
I left them a card and told them when I’d be away, and that Melinda and I both had keys to their house and could do cat and chicken care if they needed. Teresa made a stroganoff to take to them. And Pam called a friend who attends their old church, found out when and where the funeral will be and disseminated the information among the neighbors. But there should be more we can do, shouldn’t there? Something we can do to hold Steve and Suzanne through their pain?
As I drove off Tuesday morning, I looked up at their house. It was a perfect morning: clear blue skies, fresh green pastures, everything in flower – heaven on earth. Steve and Suzanne sat silently side-by-side at the end of their porch, staring across the valley. Their grief was palpable; it slammed into my heart.
In The Mermaid Chair, Sue Monk Kidd writes, “There’s release in knowing the truth no matter how anguishing it is. You come finally to the irreducible thing, and there’s nothing left to do but pick it up and hold it. Then, at least, you can enter the severe mercy of acceptance.”
Carol’s gone.
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